“Thank you”, I say. “Thank you”, then before I can finish, it hits me, “so much”, through sudden tears and even a sob.
It happened both times, both kids at the hospital, just delivered by the obstetrician and their team. As we leave the delivery room I turn to say thank you and I can’t even get the words out of my mouth before I’m flooded and drowned by gratitude and indebtedness and tears.
Gratitude actually feels like a trite word to describe how I felt. I mean, Casey and I were relying on their training and skill to perform the C-sections and make sure our babies would be safe and healthy. We were trusting them with the most valuable things we would ever have, no second chances.
A thank-you doesn’t begin to express how I felt about those doctors, but It’s all I could get out.
Melody and David’s wedding would be a one time deal too, no second chances, and they trusted me with making sure they had something to look at, to hold on to, years from now, when they remembered that day among days, their wedding day.
After the last song at the reception, David insisted that we get a picture of us; he and Melody and Casey and I. Then Melody gave us a big hug. David pulled my handshake in for a big hug himself. “Thank you” he says.
Dave didn’t want his drink cluttering up the image, so he stashed it way back there, but somehow it ended up looking cool…