free to be

“Tell me about something beautiful.” Her request caught me off guard. I looked up from the note I was pensively writing and looked at her face. I leaned in close and looked intently into her eyes for the first time since I entered her room. She was my last visit of the day—added to me at the last minute so I will confess that my heart was not engaged in what I was doing. I was rushing to wrap up my day. Upon getting to her home, I mechanically completed her assessment. As I inspected her from head to toe I filled the silence between us with chatter. Once I was satisfied with how she was checking out, I silently sat down beside her and became lost in my own thoughts as I feverishly filled out the paper work. I nearly forgot she was living and breathing beside me. Her question came as an intrusion to my disengaged mind and heart. “Something beautiful?” Now that she had jarred me back to the present moment, I was floundering a bit to come up with something that I thought might be satisfying but real. With her vision almost completely gone and confined by the limits of the hospital bed, I knew what she meant. She wanted a taste of the sunshine. She wanted to see with someone else’s eyes; out of the bedroom; free.

I retraced the events of the day. I told her how the sun was shining brightly as I left my home early this morning and that even in the early morning hours, I could already feel the humidity like a cloak around me. I told her about the winding road I traveled as I drove to my first patient’s home; the bends of the road in perfect harmony with the river on it’s east bank. I described how the river road became wooded with it’s canopy of giant trees of old, and how for a few minutes the glory of the sun was muted by the lush green leaves overhead. I told her about a patient who smiled today who’s smile we had not seen for quite some time. As I recounted the day’s events in light of beauty, it made the feel of the whole day different.

And that’s when I saw it. The shine of tears in her eyes; upturned corners of her mouth. She transcended the confines of her withering body and journeyed with me. I didn’t get to tell her about the “something beautiful” presently lying beside me due to the emotion that had crept into my throat. In her quest to see beauty with someone else’s eyes, someone else’s eyes beheld beauty.

After a few minutes, I packed up my things, gave her a kiss on the forehead and said good-bye. She nodded yes with her gaze fixed on the ceiling-her expression unchanged. I hoped she was still driving along the country roads as I walked out to my car and got inside.

I know we all get busy, we all become disengaged-we can’t expect ourselves or anyone else to be “on” every moment of every day. But I didn’t notice the brilliance of the sunshine today in the early morning hours until I recounted it this afternoon. I didn’t appreciate the canopy of trees along the river road until I traveled it once more in my memory. I wouldn’t have seen her, if she hadn’t asked. Sometimes I’m so busy living ahead of myself, getting stressed over my list of things to do/ people to see, that I miss it.

I’m reminded at the end of this day that God delights in our pleasure and that He created a world full of beauty for us to behold.

Today, was a good day. A day of beauty. And to think, I almost missed it.