Jimmy

When Francis died after a long illness it seemed my role of mother also died. Although I had other children they had achieved the independence that is the goal of parenting under normal circumstances.

I had avoided thinking about the inevitable time when my "nest would be empty and because my mothering was needed by my adult child, I didn't need to face the turning point until I was past fifty.

With empty arms and a broken heart I waded through the grieving process. I prayed for a purpose in my life. I accepted a nursing position on a pediatric unit and soon found my arms full of babies and children who needed me. I began to feel alive again.
I was drawn to a little boy with severe birth defects. Although he was 18 months old he weighed on 11 pounds and because of his spastic movements he was not easy to cuddle. I developed a way of wrapping him tight with a blanket so could relax a little we spent time together rocking and filling each other needs.
During that time I woke one night from a dream about my son's death and while I wept quietly into my pillow a thought came to me about my little patient. The next day when I arrived at the hospital, I pulled his chart and my heart skipped a beat as I saw the date of birth. March 24, 1989, the day my son had died.
My little patient also died, but my next wasn't empty any more.

Like the broken sparrow I took home when I was child, I took little Jimmy into my heart with intent to mend, repair and return the world. I can still see those little buck teeth and his mouth that was shaped in an expression of mischievous intent. When he was tickled about something he crooned and bobbed his head in a special way that always got him the attention he was looking for. He was so keenly aware of his environment that he could identify individuals entering his room on tip toe.
When the sparrow died, I stopped investing myself in matters of life that no future. Many sparrows passed through my life before I stopped turning my heart in the other direction. Jimmy, with his little broken body and special smile was one of many people who have given me the courage to take others into that special place of caring and compassion that differentiates nursing from other relationships. This nurse will always remember the Brown eyed child with the Howdy Doody grin that captured the heart of the pediatric department.