Saturday, April 04, 2009


Today my sweet husband took care of our girls while I slept in after a rough night with restless children. He does this frequently. I am blessed.

Today I made two cups of coffee and drank one.

Today my family attended the annual Easter Egg Hunt at our church.

Today I watched as a life was saved. A man, a friend's father, had a heart attack. Right there, seated a few seats away from us, as we watched a yo-yo artist perform. I watched as two women, nurses, there with their families, started CPR, courageously and systematically kept him alive until paramedics arrived. He was not breathing. He had no pulse. I saw people rally to care for the children, mine and my friend's; to call 911; to clear the hundreds of chairs from the room; to pray. I saw the paramedics work with amazing skill and presence of mind for what seemed like an eternity, performing horrible, sickening, life-saving procedures. I saw my dear friend fall apart. And all I could do was hold her hand. I saw a group of people - friends, strangers, my husband - who drew upon a strength of compassion that transcended the helplessness of horror to do what needed to be done. I heard a lead paramedic whisper to his crew, "Just sixty more seconds". And within those last sixty seconds, we all heard, "They got a pulse."

I don't know what will happen next. I don't know whether the man will survive the aftermath of this attack, but I know that he survived this afternoon, and that he survived because of courage and compassion. I wish I had something profound to say about it, some epiphany. I don't. I have raw emotion and confusion and wonder, questions about aging, convictions about preparation and responsibility. Maybe as time goes on I will be able to glean some clear wisdom from this experience. Right now, though, I just want to pray for my friends, hold my girls, and lean on my husband (who has already had a lot of people lean on him today).