A week or so ago I had a doctors appointment. I was sitting down with the nurse and an intern to go through the normal ‘stuff’ and she and I were chatting. I had seen her at the doctor’s several times and we had always exchanged pleasantries.
She asked me how many children I had. My normal answer is to say that I have a daughter. This time I said that I have two and I held my breath to see where the conversation would go. She asked how old and I told her that Darcy had just turned six. I then took a deep breath and said that I had a son and that he had passed.
The intern kept doing what she was doing, completely unfazed, but the nurse stopped and looked at me. She asked if I had just said that my son had passed and I told her yes, he had. She looked at me and said she was sorry and I kept waiting for ‘the look.’ What happened next took me by complete surprise. She told me that she had lost one of her daughters 2 years ago. She was one of ‘us’, she got it. She talked about her daughter and I talked about Benny.
I wanted to give this woman a hug, she had just made the first time that I really told a stranger about Benny pretty damn easy. I was sad for her too though. Here was this woman that I had talked to several times, never knowing that she knew all too well my pain. We’re everywhere, moving forward through life, even though we don’t want to.
This moment brought me up short. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone. It was like the hospital all over again. Another stranger reaching out and making it ok for us. I truly believe that Benny was all over this too.