Angels come in all shapes and sizes. They come when you least expect them. They swoop in and seem to know exactly what you need. Even when you don’t. They are there right when you need them most.
I wonder sometimes. If we did not have a child with special needs, would it be different? Would we have had as many angel encounters? Through Josiah we have met so many compassionate souls who go out of their way to serve and to love.
Every night around 6:30 our phone would ring. Josiah was calling. We always knew. Our only consistent daily contact with him while he was living one hour from home in a residential treatment center was our nightly phone calls. I loved those calls.
The plan was for a staff member to dial the phone, hand it over to Josiah and leave the room so he could have some privacy during our conversations. I knew it wouldn’t work that way. I had handed Josiah a phone before. He threw it. That’s what he likes to do with things.
Josiah follows me. I’m fully aware he is behind me most everywhere I go. Sometimes I stop. He bangs right into me. If Rick has him and I leave the room, sometimes he finds me and just stands by my side. If I go into the bathroom, he always knows. Before too long, the door opens. He doesn’t knock. He walks in. He plops himself down on the lid of the trash can. I expect it now.
Maybe being non-verbal he thinks I understand him best. Maybe he thinks I will know what he needs or wants when he needs or wants it. Maybe he’s just grateful to be home again. Maybe he does not want to leave me. Maybe he thinks he will be whisked off to a residential center again. I really don’t know.
We made it through our lengthy hospital stay at Rainbow Babies by the Grace of God. And by the kindness and compassion of many family members and friends. Many thoughtful people, some of whom we had never met brought meals to our home on a regular basis. We had many visitors at the hospital who showered us with cards and flowers and take out meals from our favorite restaurants. Many people prayed for us. It helped tremendously.
Near the end of our stay, I felt exhausted. Staying at the hospital non-stop, changing diapers, feeding and rocking babies and not sleeping much at all, eventually took it’s toll. A very dear friend who just happened to be a nurse in another hospital and a wonderfully sweet sister-in-law came to the rescue. Despite my misgivings about leaving my children, each insisted I needed to get OUT of that hospital. They were right.
It’s been a little more than a year now. Thinking about it still brings tears to my eyes. I swore I would never do it. Even though I hadn’t really verbalized that to anyone in particular, I just knew deep in my heart I could never, ever do it. But sometimes we don’t have a choice. Sometimes life becomes so painful, the hardest thing becomes the only thing. And so it happened.