A little while ago, a broken and damaged woman, newly a mother, newly without an appendix lay in a hospital bed in a tiny part of town. The news – we’re going to go back in. “In where?” you might ask, into the cavity of my body. The one they just took my son out of and a few days later the remains of an organ. The reaction – fear. Of course.
I looked him in his eyes and I said “Okay, but promise me you won’t let me die”
He looked back at me and I saw him take a breath, hesitating only for a moment but that moment was all it took. I knew that when he responded “I promise” he meant it. I knew, that for certain, he knew the challenges that lay ahead but I knew, he wouldn’t let me down. Because he promised me. I knew that he was hoping for a miracle. Thank the lucky stars that miracle was him!
A day or two later (I can’t be sure) he came into my room, my private glass box (the one they reserve for the critical cases) and looked me in the eye and said “you see, I kept my promise!”
I couldn’t sleep last night. I lay awake for hours thinking – what do you give a man to say thank you for saving you. What do you give a man who saved your life? Somehow, a bottle of wine and a card seems so trivial. He gave me life. I have nothing to offer but my gratitude. Eternally in his debt.