The Warning
But now, stretch out your hand and touch all he has and surely he will curse you to your face.
Behold all that he has is in your power only do not lay a hand on his person.
Job 1 - 11
The temporary contract in the city was nearly complete and I was looking forward to a quiet, peaceful Christmas. Although I had enjoyed the experience the early morning dash for the train would not be missed. William placed a cup of tea on the bedside table. "Its pouring down" he said "see you later chucky" Half asleep I listened to the rain beating against the window pane, the cup wobbled precariously on the saucer as I struggled to keep awake. I just wanted to turn over and go back to sleep but I knew I had to get out of my cosy bed, the temptation to drift off getting stronger every minute. I faced a soaking walk around the edge of the local golf course with our elderly collie and the latest rescue a tatty little mongrel.
Over the years our home had at time represented a small zoo. A succession of rescue dogs, cat, rabbits, hamster, not to mention a couple of ponies had required our affection and finances. Perhaps it was time to call it a day, but when discussing whether or not to re-home yet another orphan William protested "don't be negative" and eventually the twelve week old terrier arrived and set about establishing her place leading the pack. William would don a leather glove to avoid her needle like teeth before proceeding to rough play. Now twelve months old she protested at my return to work with attacks on furniture and carpets. At this juncture my income was swiftly absorbed by repair and replacement.
Returning home I dried and fed the pets, took a quick shower then changed into my business suit. Dashing down the hill and up a steep rise to the local station I arrived on the platform only to discover the eight o'clock train was thirty minutes late, commuters stood under any scrap of shelter they could find and when it finally arrived I joined the undignified hustle for the few remaining seats. The train door had conveniently opened before me and I was able to get a seat close to the rear exit.
As the train stopped at the next station anxious faces peered in the windows hoping they would be able to find a seat. A lucky few hit the jackpot, the rest crammed like sardines grabbed the nearest support.
A blind man had taken the seat next to mine his guide dog crawling to safety in the cramped space. The third station approached and the train sped through much to the horror of the waiting passengers.
As the train hurtled towards its destination I observed a man towering above the rest of the passengers his head bent on one side against the roof of the exit compartment at the other end of the coach. His hair was snow white in a style often described as a bob. Commuting daily it was not unusual to recognise the faces of your travelling companions. Often friendships began and a brotherhood formed fighting the rail service, cancelled coaches, wrong platforms, bodies close up and personal. I had never seen anyone quite like the man towering above the rest of the passengers. As the train slowly came to a halt bodies spilled on to the platform moving quickly towards the exits. I knew I was going to be very late and had one thought in mind to make it across the city as quickly as possible.
Pushed towards the main entrance I came to an abrupt stop, my way blocked. A very tall man seemingly around seven foot, dressed in a dark suit smiled down at me. He gently took hold of my hand and said "Good morning sister, God bless you" Amazed I found myself repeating the salutation. "Oh yes, good morning and God bless you" and still very aware I was over thirty minutes late for work I continued to run out into the street. I had little time to consider this encounter throughout the hectic day ahead.
Returning home that evening I searched the passengers waiting on the platform for the stranger. The same faces as usual, friendly smiles, blank stares, others chatting, most anticipating the Christmas break. I could not believe what had happened that morning. Leaving from the front of the train the stranger should have been way in front. I had left at the rear and was trailing the rush hour crowd. Why did he chose to block my way? I remembered his hair, ethereal face, beaming smile and those incredibly blue eyes. Later that evening I discussed the experience with William and in his usual matter of fact way he said "he was probably a head case"
Christmas Day arrived and I spent the day in bed a victim of the latest flu epidemic. William never adept in emergencies opened a tin of baked beans and relaxed in front of the television. Knowing my daughter was due the following day I prayed for the strength to cook the turkey on Boxing Day and somehow managed to cope. The virus had attacked my inner ear and a now desperate William escorted me to the local medical practice just to confirm I had fallen off the end of the bed and was that normal?
We celebrated the new Millennium with a box of chocolates and a glass of wine snug under the duvet
watching the televised parade of countries around the world partying. We wondered what lay ahead but knew we had each other and I was grateful for small mercies.
It is a blessing the future is veiled. The events that followed at the beginning of February 2000 were the final "knock out blow" The only man I had ever loved was now on life support after open heart surgery. I sat by his bedside praying "Lord, if it is possible could you please let me have another fifteen years with him" but in my heart I knew it was a case of "thy Will be done" A thought I knew was not of my making crossed the plea, "you've had it" but as the third crisis hit his motionless body the words were forgotten.
Earlier that week my daughter had received positive news regarding her father's progress at the local hospital. The doctor in charge was confident that once the chest infection was under control he would probably be treated as an outpatient and a sick note was issued to cover William for three weeks. Her husband also considered her father would survive. I was hopeful although I knew he had developed septicaemia and there was no hiding the fact that the infection had entered at the site of the intravenous
infusion.
The very night she had received the encouraging news he had had a slightly better day and that his doctor appeared confident he would recover she had a vivid dream. She was told her father would die and that at that point she was to tell him to go to Jesus. She did not mentioned the dream to anyone wanting desperately to believe her father would live. Prayers were offered at her church. My sister, head of a Catholic school also requested prayers and mass was offered. Her little school children prayed for his recovery. My own church congregation and friends were also praying, so many praying for a self confessed atheist.
William began to deteriorate and as a bed became available in the city's university hospital he was transferred to their specialist cardiac unit. William survived the surgery and one post operative crisis after another. In the early hours of Sunday morning I had been told he was now stable and that eventually he would be moved into the recovery ward. The young staff nurse explained "because he has been on life support for some time he may not recognise family when we bring him round and there will be a period of convalescence but you will be able to help with his care. Her confidence assured me that the worst was over. His critical condition and my bedside watch over the forty eight hour period had taken its toll, I was exhausted.
My daughter arrived to take my place at her father's bedside and informing the ward sister I just needed a bath, some clean clothes and a few hours sleep I left the hospital. My son had arrived to drive me home and on the journey I brought him up to date regarding his father's progress. As we arrived outside the cottage his mobile phone bleeped, it was the hospital. William had suddenly deteriorated and they requested my urgent return.
On a Sunday morning the roads were usually quiet and my son more than likely exceeded the speed limit. I suddenly became aware of the scent of flowers. I asked him if he could smell flowers, he ignored the comment anxiously avoiding the speed cameras, watching for traffic police. Arriving at the hospital I ran into the main entrance and up three flights of stairs and down a corridor towards the Unit. My son-in-law stood outside the entrance and as I approached him he said "I'm sorry Talitha, he's gone" My legs collapsed and his strong arms grabbed and supported me as together we walked towards Intensive Care.
My daughter watching the lights on the monitor disappear one by one as life faded away remembered her dream and said "Dad, go to Jesus" Within the space of six days a casual initial incorrect diagnosis, hospital infection and severe shortage of beds in the necessary specialised hospital had claimed his life. The only man I had ever loved had disappeared.
Matthew 5 - 4 Blessed are those who mourn, For they shall be comforted.
If anything could get me through this trial it would be my belief in a gracious merciful loving Father and I crawled under the shelter of His wings.
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