The day had been long, early it rose and late it continued on. Mornings are messengers in their newness. That morning brought the news that nothing could be done. That morning brought having to make decisions that no one ever wants to have to make. I was called to be with a family, who by the end of the day would say goodbye to their little one, removing support. When evening came, after an unbearable day of saying goodbye, of mourning what would never be, the family could bear no more- wanting to remember their little one alive- they gave their final goodbyes and asked me to hold their baby as the little one died.  The nurse and I sat together and told the little one it was okay to go now, as they cut the lines and removed the support. That’s all we could do. Hold, stay, and help bear the unbearable for that family.

There were no words for that day that could bring anyone any comfort. All we can do is not let each other go through those things alone. When in the garden of Gethsemane, before his death, Jesus asked the disciples that were with him to watch and wait- to just be present with him so that he didn’t have to be alone- to be present to the moment and all that was happening, to just be with him. The temptation is to try and do something in our watching and waiting, when there’s nothing that can be done. We feel so helpless that we attempt to fix things when sometimes things just can’t be fixed. It’s hard to bear this helpless feeling in ourselves and in the face of others. It breaks our hearts. It devastates. That night in the garden the disciples fell asleep in not being able to bear the moment. When I held the little one, I, too, knew that I was not magnificent- that I could do nothing for her, but simply remain. And yet the gift somehow is magnificent- when we are willing to be present, to be there, to show up and remain, even though it’s unbearable.

“And at once I knew I was not magnificent, but I could see for miles, miles, miles.” ~ Bon Iver Holocene

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