Time to Move On- A Small Tribute
Posted: Monday, August 13, 2007
by Ken McCreless
RMS1437- "Answer the Call"
What an amazing creature the human baby is. I have seen literally thousands of babies in my career as a Registered Respiratory Therapist in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. These children, who weigh only a pound or two, are fighting for their lives- some win, some lose, but the intensity of the fight is remarkable on the highest level. I feel extremely privileged to have witnessed this struggle and to have worked with some of the most dedicated and knowledgeable staff in the world.
But I digress. Here is the story that I've wanted to write for a long time.
* * *
It starts when we're born. Our heart has been beating for several months and we've begun to take self soothing measures such as thumb sucking. All of a sudden we're thrust out into a cold world where all we can do for ourselves is pitch a fit until someone loves us enough to take care of us, with no hope of reciprocation anytime soon.
Our passage into this world is heralded by a bloody torrent of pain and sacrifice. Blood is shed for our birth and blood courses through our bodies, delivering nutrition and oxygen and removing waste- by products of a living being.
But what a wonderful being it is! Neurons are charged, discharged, and re-charged countless times to contract heart muscle and force blood through our arteries and back through our veins. Our bodies routinely carry out an exercise regimen without us ever having seen a gym.
Our inquisitiveness will not allow us to just lay there. No sooner than our tiny eyes can focus we're reaching out and grasping whatever we can. Our amazing little bodies are growing at a phenomenal rate, but no faster than our minds. We are taking in sounds and storing them for use at what to our parents is the most un-opportune moment.
To some it might seem that the movements are random and involuntary, but we know better- we're on a mission. Our objective is to reach the edge of the couch by sundown, then obtain intelligence as to climb-ability; maybe even grab a taste of the cushion if there's time. Not gonna happen- here comes Granma!
Soon after we realize that lifting our tummies off the floor makes a big difference, we learn the art of forward motion. This marks the beginning of our curtain climbing phase. We are rarely happen staying in one place now, there is too much to see!
Our first Christmas and the box our toy came in is infinitely more exciting than the toy. We're walking now, and Dad has the tricycle put together- from curtain climber to tricycle motor ion such a short time!
There is a reason it's called the "Terrible Twos." Everything, well just about everything, that we've done so far has been described as "cute" or "adorable." Throwing Daddy's watch into the toilet made mommy yell out the lesson I have already learned- No! Except now no one is laughing.
Now the "baby" is ready for first grade. Kindergarten was a bit traumatic at first, but the teacher was kind and soon the refrigerator was loaded with art; a bit more sophisticated than the now archaic but still cherished "first crayon" drawings.
Parents hardly notice as the years fly by in a blur of backpacks and ribbon ceremonies for attendance and citizenship; broken only by the occasional play or performance night.
Grandparents, aunts and uncles and many friends of the family gather to congratulate the young person on their impending graduation. Mom and dad struggle to maintain composure even as tears drift down watching their young person cross the stage, and then, the line into adulthood. No one knows where the time went.
Dads back pops and groans as he lumbers out of bed at 2 am to answer the phone. He does not even notice the pain of kicking the corner of the dresser as he races to get dressed. Mom has already leapt up and was gleefully getting ready to go to the hospital to be there as their grandbaby is born. This wonderful cycle begins again. "The Circle of Life," as they say, but real, and more glorious, astounding and beautiful than any movie can relay.
* * *
Thank you to all the individuals who came into my life during those NICU years. God bless you all.
Ken McCreless is just a guy who loves to write, and was born to do so. He is a freelance writer with several projects ongoing, including books and magazines. A huge fan of both irony and history, Ken has dedicated his life and his writing to serve the Lord Jesus Christ.
Got a need for short fiction? --Once-Told Tales-- Twilight Zone inspired!!
Got a need for short fiction? --Once-Told Tales-- Twilight Zone inspired!!
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Top-level comments on this article: (3 total)Ken, Thanks for sharing this. Very enjoyable read.Thank you, Steve. It was a great ride.
You told the story well, Ken. Life is wonderful, but passes by way too quickly. Thanks for reminding us to cherish the gift.I appreciate the kind words. We should all "cherish the moment."
What a wonderful read, Ken! My own daughter will be 8 years old tomorrow and as I was holding her in my arms last night, I too was wondering, how is time moving so fast? Thank you for this article!Thank you Judi, children are indeed a gift. I have kept every scrap they drew on for comfort when I'm old- I just didn't think it would come so soon.
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