Glimmers
April 29, 2011
“Through some moment of beauty or pain, some sudden turning of our lives, we catch glimmers of at least what the saints are blinded by…” (Frederick Buechner, Listening To Your Life, p. 169)
The following is the president’s message I wrote for Space Coast Grief Education Alliance. SCGEA is a collection of professionals from various fields who offer education and support for those who are grieving the death of someone loved and important in their lives.
In this message, I reference one or our care partners from Parrish Medical Center. I am proud to be a part of PMC and to work with people who make a difference in the lives of others every day. Sometimes you see that in a matter of hours, as in the case referenced here. Sometimes you see that years later and sometimes you may never know the difference you’ve made.
Blessings,
Jerald
SC GEA
President’s Message
Like some of you I presume, I have been doing a good bit of yard work of late. The current project is re-planting the flower beds in the back yard. I am late doing it this year because of another project I just completed; a retaining wall and pathway from the fence gate on the side of the house to the screen door around back.
Planting things can be a hit or miss exercise. The plants I chose last year were really a bust. They simply did not do well in spite of my best efforts. But I am back at it with hopes of better results this year. We’ll see…
I took some satisfaction this past week from a planting of another sort. When I worked for Brevard Hospice years ago, I worked with three boys from Titusville, two identical twins and a younger sibling. Their father died and their mom had asked for some help with them to help them deal with their grief. I think the fact that I had experienced the loss of my father at about the same age help us connect. I worked with them a few weeks. It has been too long to remember just how many.
When I came to work at Parrish Medical Center in 2004, who do you think I met? The twins! Both are now EMTs and work in the Emergency Department at Parrish, as well as for Brevard County Fire Rescue. It was great to see how they had grown into young men any parent would be proud of.
While on duty for the Fire Department a couple of weeks ago, David, one of the twins, responded to a call for help. When he arrived, the man was sitting on his steps talking on the phone. He said he wasn’t sure he really needed to go to the hospital and kept talking on the phone. One quick look and David was sure. He said, “Sir, hang up the phone, we have to go now.” While I can’t share all the details, the result was a man was saved from certain death by David’s assessment and action.
Now I know that I was not the only influence in the lives of those boys thirteen years ago. I know others had larger and more important roles, particularly their parents and extended family. But I also know I planted something that they still remember and talk about.
When I look around the room at our meetings, I see professionals who make a difference, who plant hope in the broken soil of others’ grief and loss. We don’t always get the privilege of seeing the result of what we do, what we “plant” in the lives of others. But don’t think for a minute that it doesn’t matter.
Until next time,
Jerald
