Being tied down and sawed in half like a magician’s assistant made holding my newborn impossible. The nurse hoisted him up to my face and our noses touched ever so slightly. Our first kiss, an Eskimo kiss. Weeks, months went by and I never thought about that “kiss,” never replicated it. One afternoon as my handsome guy was learning to crawl, he scrambled over to where I was sitting on the living room floor, pulled himself up, and found my nose with his.
My husband was throwing a batting practice to his baseball team before a big game. I was on a different field watching another game when I felt it. Just it. I turned around fully expecting someone to be looking for me, and there he was. A player’s father had come to tell me about the accident. Long months of surgeries, eye-drops, precautions, and prayers; my husband’s eye is fully healed and he is still coaching.
Lying in the hospital bed, in and out of consciousness thanks to the Percocet, I struggled to sit upright, to keep my chin from crashing onto my chest. A figure emerged from the shadows of the hallway; was she a vision or really standing in front of me? With her caramel complexion came a wave of calm. Mop, clean linens, and garbage bags piled in her hands, she smiled. She didn’t ask me to label the pain with a number; she spoke kind, comforting words. I slept better that night than I ever have, but despite my best efforts, never found her to thank her.
Because divine intervention.
A misunderstanding. Misplaced anger. Dreams deferred. A 10-hour car ride to stand by his side, fighting back tears while hats were held to hearts and music swelled around us. Frigid temperatures. Falling rain.
Nightmares can yield happiness.
Plans gone awry become our foundation.
The unexpected gives us exactly what we need without us ever realizing we need it.