We all just take care of each other

Today, I saw two helpless people, each unable to take care of themselves, each needing someone to nurture them, to love them. One was a preschool-aged girl, crumbled on the floor of her caretaker’s home, sobbing. Her parents had just divorced, and she just couldn’t understand why mommy left. The other, an elderly woman, delicate but healthy yesterday, suffered a massive stroke this morning, which stole most of what was left of her abilities.

Tonight, they’re both scared, both confused. Their worlds have been shattered. In different ways, but still shattered. The ask, “Why did this happen to me? Who will take care of me?”

They’re powerless over their situations. Both at the mercy of life’s caretakers. For one, it’s a daycare provider. For the other, it’s a team of doctors and nurses. They’re dependent on others for their basic needs, and their not-so-basic needs. Both tragedies made me stop and contemplate my own life. God willing my children won’t mourn the loss of their parent’s marriage to divorce. God willing I won’t wake up one morning, unable to move and barely able to speak. God willing.

As I stroked an elderly hand in the hospital tonight, and stroked back wisps of beautiful white hair, a pair of terrified eyes looked up at me. Eyes that had seen so much. Eyes that sparkled at sixteen, marrying her true love before he served a four-year tour of duty in WWII. Eyes that sparkled in their early twenties, when babies were born and life was full of promise. Eyes that locked with me as she struggled to say, “Thank you so much for being here.”

I said the only thing I could. “That’s what love is all about. We all just take care of each other.”