May 19, 2009

Yesterday was a sacred moment for me. Linda, the mother of the baby I took care of for three weeks last September, Ismael, met me at the hospital in the morning. I didn’t recognize her at first, but was shocked beyond all words when I figured out who it was. I never thought I would see her again and haven‘t seen her since October. Ismael, we think had some brain damage from birth and was not feeding, so I fed him via NG for close to a month. I later heard he died about a month after they left the hospital. I had been named his Godmother.

After I ran back from the house to get some pictures I had of Ismael and Linda, I gave them to her and we just sat outside the hospital. We were sitting outside the room she had been in with Ismael. She was quiet, very quiet. I tried talking with her some; how was her family, what she is up to, then talked some about Ismael. And that’s when the tears came. She sat there in silence as the tears just rolled down her face. I was surprised. Never in my life have I seen a Haitian mourn like that. Usually it’s loud wailing or they just put up a brick wall inside and never show any emotion. But here she was, an 18 year old who had already seen her first baby die, sit in raw emotion and mourn as she reflected on him.

The moment was bittersweet for me. We both sat there in silence crying together. It was a connection beyond words. I started thinking about everything that has actually gone down in the building at my back. All these different faces started to float into my mind. I hadn’t let my mind think about them for quite a while.