Wanted to Share a Story

I was in a hospital waiting to get a scan last week. I hate anything affiliated with hospitals, waiting rooms, and doctors. I was sitting in the waiting area in my hospital gown, waiting for them to call me, growing cold and impatient. The only other person in the room with me was an older lady. She was frail; probably in her 70's or 80's. She had her eyes closed and was gripping a locket around her neck. She kept rubbing it as if she were praying. I thought what an awful place this is -- every one in dread and waiting on bad news. I couldn't wait to leave.

They called the older lady in before me. The technician told her she needed to remove her all her jewelry. This alarmed her. She was gripping the locket as if it were her life line. The technician told her she'd help her remove the necklace, and promised that she would be very careful. I thought the older lady was going to cry.

When the lady came out, she was holding the necklace in her hand, and moving very slowly. She dropped it. Seeing how frail she was, I jumped up immediately to pick up the necklace, so she wouldn't have to bend down. The locket had opened from the impact of hitting the floor -- I noticed it was empty. I picked it up and handed it to her.

She became frantic and asked me if I saw a small piece of wood on the floor that had fallen out of the locket. I thought this was odd, but seeing how upset she was, I got down on the floor and started looking -- my backside revealed in the process because of those wonderful hospital gowns. I felt stupid and was wondering why she was carrying wood in her necklace instead of a picture. It took a while, but I finally found it for her. As promised, it was nothing more than a tiny piece of pale wood and was not much bigger than a splinter. It could have very easily been lost and never found. She thanked me profusely.

The technician called me in for my scan, so I told her she was welcome and went back to the process of dreading.

When I came out, the old lady was sitting in the waiting room, waiting for me. She again thanked me for helping her find the wood. I told her it really was no problem. Honestly, I was impatient and just wanted to leave. She put her hand on my arm and said that she hoped she didn't embarrass me by telling me this, but that piece of wood was from the bed she and her husband had shared and broke the night of their honeymoon. She had been carrying it with her for almost 40 years. I asked her if her husband was still alive, and she said he had died 10 years ago. And it was all she really felt she had left of him. She said recently that her son had tried taking the old locket to have it reset with a picture of her grandchildren, and she had vehemently told him to leave it the way it was. The locket was deeply personal, and she did not feel that she needed to tell him why. Her son had been confused and frustrated with her and thought she was crazy.

Hearing her story was such a gift. We spend a lot of time in waiting rooms, looking at people. Sometimes you see an old woman gripping a necklace in a waiting room, and all you see is an old woman gripping a necklace. I imagine sometimes people look at us, and see something less than the entire picture of who we really are. It reminded me that we are surrounded by magic. We just have to watch and listen for it. I felt so honored that I got to hear this sweet lady's story and steal a glimpse into her life and dreams. I knew that you all would appreciate it, too.

Love,
Kim