It's been busy in the NICU the last two weekends, since the Friday the 13th full moon. I divided my three-hour shift between two babies, holding and shushing and rocking them to sleep.
Relieved of my duty by the next volunteer, I made my way back down the sloping hallway. Coming to the intersection at the postpartum ward, I noticed the police officer was gone.
There was a single white rose, attached with blue tape to the door across from where he had stood.
A white rose, in a hallway filled with pink and blue. I paused, said a silent prayer for the mother, for her loss, and drove home in silence.
The ending was hard, powerful, and hard. You had me with you - hanging on every word, trying to figure out what was happening, and then the realization stopped time. Beautifully crafted.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Clare. I have felt the tiniest bit like that mother--I was alone in the postpartum ward while my preemie was cared for miles away in the downtown hospital where I now volunteer. I can barely imagine how it feels to see all those pink and blue ribbons, in her situation.
DeleteOh, this is a sad detail you noticed. What you are doing is hopeful though. This moment makes for a powerful piece of writing.
ReplyDeleteOh, I didn't see this one coming and it really packed a punch. That single rose. So, so sad. I've had my own experience with the NICU and with the loss that mother felt. So long ago, yet ever present. I suspect my mind will be drifting back that way more than usual today. You captured a powerful moment.
ReplyDeleteWow. This is so moving, Chris. :(
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