Don't ask me why I took a picture of the hospital hallway. I thought it was strange too, but then I thought I would blog about it.
Long, long ago I remember walking down this hallway with my daughter and looking up at the ceiling with wonder. She would jumped up and down with delight and run up and down it. She would try to grab the butterflies. I was amazed at the beautiful colors. It was a happy place!
Then Isaac spent 4 months in the NICU and we walked down this hall at least 365 thousand times (at least it seemed like it).
When we thought we were done walking the hall, he was admitted to the hospital several times.
I cried here, I prayed here, I made very hard phone calls here. I remember putting up a wall here to prepare myself for a very difficult care conference.
Still, it's a place of solace. A place where I can catch my breath before my next endeavor. It's a safe place where I'm not conversing with Doctors and I can just be an ordinary person walking a hall for just a moment.
Now when I see someone walk down it with delight I begin to snicker at them. I want to roll my eyes. I begin to feel somewhat resentful that they don't walk down this hall like I do with a ton of bricks weighing them down. I wonder if they would appreciate it as much if they had walked down it as many times as I have. It's a feeling I don't like to have, but it's real.
It's hard walking many of the halls in the hospital. Each one brings me back to memory lane where we began the journey.
Then I turn down the other hall and see some familiar smiling faces who welcome us and get excited at how big little man is getting. They know me as Isaac's Mama. I see people who have made it possible for him to be here 4 years. I don't want to be here, but somehow there is comfort in the familiar faces who have been through the ups and downs of this hospital life with us.