Therapy Day 13: Hat Day

When we arrived at the Haven this morning, we found at that Kelly did not make it through the night. She was not able to fight the pneumonia, and she passed away. Her mom was able to be with her over the last few days, and we saw her mom and dad visiting the twins last week.

When we were told the news, there were several tears shed of course. I am NEVER immune to loosing a patient- especially a child- but working with sick people for 6 years has enabled me to process it in a different way and somewhat keep it together until I am alone. Since I was not crying at that point, I steered my feeding group over to the porch of Haven 3 and told them to just take their time. I went inside to gauge the feel of the house and how the Aunties were doing. The Aunties were mellow, but I don't think they were surprised. Then I went into the room where Kelly was, and when I saw this I lost it.

As I was crying, I saw a cheesy little grin out of the corner of my eye. It was Dennis, as if to say "Hey I am here and I would like to play please." And that was when I realized that God had little blessings of peace and joy in every other crib in the Haven. So I made an executive decision and began taking babies out to the porch until every student and B. Weave had a cute little chubby munchkin to love on. After everyone had a baby, we decided to have our feeding group on the porch in the fresh air. Remember though, it is winter here (65-70 degrees), and so they do NOT allow babies out without hats. So this was when I declared it hat day. Why not?

Sweet Sidney after she came back inside from group. She is doing better.
God gives and takes away, but still we will choose to say "Blessed be your name." We are leaving for the burial in a few minutes. Please keep Kelly's family and the Aunties in your prayers. This poem by W.S. Merwin was in the beginning of the Anne Lamott book that I am reading...

Listen

with the night falling we are saying thank you

we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings

we are running out of the glass rooms

with our mouths full of food to look at the sky

and say thank you

we are standing by the water looking out

in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging

after funerals we are saying thank you

after the news of the dead

whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you

in a culture up to its chin in shame

living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you

in doorways and in the backs of cards and in elevators

remembering wars and the police at the back door

and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you

in the banks that use us we are saying thank you

with the crooks in the office with the rich and fashionable

unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us

our lost feelings we are saying thank you

with the forests falling faster than the minutes

of our lives we are saying thank you

with the words going out like cells of a brain

with the cities growing over us like the earth

we are saying thank you faster and faster

with nobody listening we are saying thank you

we are saying thank you and waving

dark though it is