A KINDNESS REMEMBERED…
While surfing the web recently I came across this picture of one of the ER docs that I used to work with. I retired in 2001 and had worked with him for more than 15 years.
“Moose” (as we irreverently and affectionately called him) was/is a good Dr. and he really keeps the ER moving. He runs a tight ship and has the ability to lighten tense situations that inevitably are a part of every ER.
I haven’t thought of Dr. M. for a long time but the minute that I saw this photo I was transported back to a glum day in September of 2000. My husband of 32 years had passed away on the 22nd and this was my first day back at work.
I was working beside Dr. M. that day and, other than a quick hug in the morning, there was no indication that he was aware of my sadness. It was the usual hectic day and I found comfort in the hustle and bustle of things that I was used to doing.
That was one of the longest days of my life. I found that if I concentrated on each task as it came up that I could get through without crying; but, it was very taxing and I was exhausted when my shift finally ended. I think I remember picking up some food from the cafeteria so that I wouldn’t have to cook when I got home.
It was a very strange feeling to approach my empty house. It had so recently been filled with family and friends who had helped me cope with the loss of Dick. Now they were all gone & I was on my own. The tears were streaming down my face as I unlocked the door and entered.
Once inside the house I was overcome with emotion. Giving in to my exhaustion I headed for the bedroom and that’s when I noticed that the light was blinking on my answering machine. I was so tired I almost didn’t listen to it but I did ... and here’s what it said:
“Hi, Ginnie, this is Moose. I knew you’d be walking into an empty house and just wanted you to know that you’re not alone. We love you and are here for you. See you in the morning.”
I have never forgotten how much that simple message meant to me. I’ve kept it close to my heart and I bring it out on occasion when the healing process falters. Thanks, Moose.