long week.

it is amazing to me that it has been only 7 days since i last posted.
it seems like a month ago since last wednesday.

i worked last wednesday night. which i NEVER (repeat NEVER) do.
i always spend wednesday nights with 50-60 of my favorite people at MyLife SM.
the entire time i have been at st. francis children's i have probably worked 3 or 4 wednesday night shifts. (and i've been there for 3.5 years.)
however, last week with kelli still being in town on monday, i changed my schedule and came off of monday night and onto wednesday night.

i am not a firm believer in the good ole saying, "everything happens for a reason".
in fact, i pretty much despise that phrase.
but, i do believe this...
i was at work last wednesday night for a reason.

i have been a pediatric nurse for almost 5 years. in these 5 years i have witnessed extreme heartbreak and extreme happiness. i have questioned God and His motives. i have loved on families and children. i have seen children breathe their last breath. i have seen children beat every odd and resiliently fight back to health. my heart has felt like there were moments it was literally breaking in my chest...but never has it felt the way it did last wednesday night.

wednesday afternoon a friend and former co-worker was t-boned at an intersection by a man who ran a red light.
her 3 children were in the car.
she had just picked up her boys from school.
they were listening to music.
talking about their day.
and in an instant, everything changed.

i have never witnessed such tragedy and heartbreak.
i have never wanted so badly to ease the heartbreak for someone else in my entire life.
i don't usually work wednesday nights.
but i was there last wednesday.
to cry. to pray. to plead. to hug. to cry some more. to bring jolly ranchers.

what do you say?
what do you do?
what do you bring?

after many tears and many desperate cries to our Father, i came to the very real conclusion that it has to be okay to say nothing. because nothing can be said.

and as much as every single nurse and physician wanted so desperately to do something, anything...nothing could be done for Easton. his mom said it well: it was an impossible situation.

so what do you bring? i think, when people are facing impossible situations, you bring yourself. you provide a listening ear. and you provide tears. and you provide a box of kleenex. and you provide the sound of laughter. and sometimes, a drink from QT is necessary too.

this family lost their 6 year old son last week.
there is nothing that can be said. done. or brought.
because nothing will bring him back.
but in their darkest hour, they made the most admirable decision.
the gift of organ donation which provided life for other children across the nation.

read about Easton's life here: Tulsa World
donations can be made to The Easton Cade Whisenhunt Memorial Fund at any Tulsa Teachers Credit Union.

hug your kids and loved ones tight.
love deeply.
be present.
this life is a gift.