Just as my wife’s water broke, I got a call from my mother’s nurse, and she told me my mom was dying. I was torn and forced to make a difficult decision.
The day Debra found out she was pregnant was one of those days that I will cherish for the rest of my life. We had cried together, unable to believe that we were going to have a baby home soon, and I promised Debra I’d be an amazing dad.
Debra and I had waited to become parents for a long time. We were one of those miracle couples who conceived after going through tons of failed fertility treatments and doctors telling us there was no chance.
“We’ll be the best parents to him, darling,” I told Debra one night. “I can’t wait to hold our baby in my arms.”
“I know, honey,” she’d said, smiling. I gently kissed her baby bump and promised Debra I’d always be by her side.
Debra had always been very anxious about the pregnancy due to the complications, and I had told her I would be there for her, so there was no need to worry.
Little did I know fate would plunge me into a situation where I’d have to choose between her and my mom while was in labor…
I still get chills when I recall that day. It started as a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly, and nothing seemed wrong with the outside world. I was preparing breakfast in the kitchen because Debra wasn’t feeling well that morning.
I quickly assembled a breakfast plate for her, and I went to call her for breakfast. As I entered our bedroom, I saw she was leaning against the wall with one hand, clutching her baby bump and breathing heavily.
“Honey, are you okay?” I dashed to her, worried. “Should I call the doctor?”
“Gordon…my water…it…it broke,” she whispered heavily, and that’s when I noticed the floor beneath her. It was wet. “Take me to the hospital, Gordon…Please!” she cried.
“Jesus!” I panicked. “I’ll get the car started. Just hang on a sec, honey.”
I ran to our car, grabbing the keys from the bowl on the living room shelf. I opened the car door, then rushed back inside to help Debra.
“Don’t worry, honey. We’ll reach the hospital in no time. Okay, we’ve got this.” I was comforting her as her labor pains began. I was terrified and nervous. I was praying everything would be fine.
After we made it to the car and Debra got inside, I locked her door and rushed to take my seat. Then my phone rang. It was my mom’s nurse, Marla, calling me. My mother had been diagnosed with a progressive cardiac condition, and due to her illness, she was confined to bed rest.
Worried, I answered the phone, and Marla’s voice on the other end of the line broke me from inside.
“Gordon,” she said in a weak voice. “Your mom… She had a heart attack, so I took her to the hospital. The doctors say there is little hope she’ll make it… Your mother is dying. I think you should be here as soon as you can.”
“Jesus, Jesus!” I exhaled a sigh. Why was everything happening at the same time? I was ripped to shreds and didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, there was Debra, who was in labor, and on the other, there was my mother.
I went inside the car, tears in my eyes, and told Debra everything. I couldn’t hide it from her, anyway. She saw my face and asked me what was wrong. And I blurted everything out.
“Mom is dying, honey. She had a heart attack, and Marla’s asking me to be there as soon as possible. I am so nervous. I – I don’t know what to do….”
“Honey,” Debra said. “Call a taxi. I’ll go by myself…”
“What?” I was taken aback. “No, we can’t do that!”. She was drenched in sweat and moaning in pain. “Look at you. It’s just not….”
“We don’t have time, honey…Ahh…call the taxi now, Gordon. Your mom needs you. You are a son first, then a husband. I will manage. Your mom…she…” Her pain was becoming worse.
“I’m calling the taxi. Oh, God!”
Thankfully, I got a taxi soon, and I instructed the driver to take Debra to the hospital safely. My hands shook as I drove to my mother’s hospital, and my tears wouldn’t stop. My heart was racing, wondering about Debra’s condition and if our baby would be alright.
I’m a second-grade teacher, and some days, my students teach me the most important lessons.
The morning sun streamed through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow on the colorful drawings and neatly arranged desks. But the brightness couldn’t quite chase away the cloud that settled over my second-grade class when Lily walked in, her small face etched with a sadness that seemed too heavy for her young shoulders.
As we began our morning routine, the usual chatter and rustling of papers faded into an uneasy silence. Lily, her voice trembling, announced to the room, “My parents are going to court today. For custody.”
Her words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the complexities that even the youngest among us face. “I’m scared they’re going to make me choose,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.
My heart ached for her. I wanted to scoop her up and shield her from the pain, but all I could do was offer a reassuring smile and a gentle hug. “It’s going to be okay, Lily,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re here for you.”
I gently steered the class towards our morning activity, hoping to provide a brief distraction, a moment of normalcy amidst the turmoil. But the weight of Lily’s words lingered, a quiet undercurrent of worry that permeated the room.
A while later, I noticed Lily huddled near the cubbies, her small frame shaking with sobs. She was tightly embracing another student, a boy named Noah, whose own eyes were filled with tears. Alarmed, I rushed over, fearing something had happened.
But as I approached, I saw a small, crumpled note clutched in Lily’s hand. I gently unfolded it, and my breath caught in my throat. In Noah’s shaky, uneven handwriting, it read:
“Don’t worry. Whatever happens, it’s in God’s hands.”
The simplicity and profound wisdom of those words struck me like a physical blow. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I had to turn away for a moment, overwhelmed by the depth of compassion these two young children displayed.
In that moment, I realized that I wasn’t just teaching these children; they were teaching me. They were showing me the true meaning of empathy, the power of faith, and the unwavering strength of human connection.
Noah, in his innocent understanding, had offered Lily the only comfort he knew, a reminder that even in the face of uncertainty, there was something bigger than their fears. Lily, in her vulnerability, had allowed herself to be comforted, trusting in the sincerity of her friend’s words.
As I drove home that day, my heart was full, my eyes still damp with tears. I was so proud of the small, loving community we had built in our classroom, a sanctuary where even the most vulnerable felt safe and supported.
These children, barely old enough to tie their own shoes, had shown me that the greatest wisdom often resides in the smallest hearts. They reminded me that even in a world filled with complexity and pain, there is always room for compassion, for faith, and for the unwavering power of love. And that some of the greatest lessons in life, are taught by the ones we least expect.
Leave a Reply