Only for the Believers

Call me crazy for believing in ghosts.

Last night, on Tina's way out of the hospital, she asked me if my Grandpa Floyd smoked.

Well yes in fact he did.

She said, "I believe he visited Robert three times today, and he's always in the rocking chair. I can smell him. It comes and goes so quickly that it's not as if a smoker has walked by and the smell lingers, it really is a presence that comes and goes."

Instantly brought tears to my eyes. I love to believe that my sweet son is never alone even when I am not in his room.

She said that Robert hangs out with "the guys" because he'll look away from her and focus his adorable eyes elsewhere in the room. "The guys" are Grandpa Robert (Dan's grandpa that sweet baby boy is named after), other Grandpa Robert (cousin Tina's dad), and my Grandpa. She says she has to tell the guys to leave when it's time for baby boy Robert to sleep.

[This is choppy. Sorry I haven't quite figured out how to connect these two entirely different thoughts yet.]

I may not be a Christian, or a follower of any specific religion, but I do believe there is a God and he/it reveals himself in the goodness of others and the compassion that human beings just feel for each other.

God is present when a crying stranger sits down on the couch next to my husband, and Dan automatically hugs him. Or when the homeless man behind me at the gas station can't afford his single stick of string cheese so I pay for it. Or there is a man with two small daughters trying to hold his family together and sleep on the couch here at Children's, so I put a blanket over them.

No need for organized religion. There is definitely a greater power out there somewhere, but I don't quite think it's what everyone expects it to be. It's in us. Just let yourself be open and appreciate all the kind gestures, a cool breeze, or a hug from a stranger. Of course you're leaving yourself open to get hurt, but hey, can't plan that kind of thing.

And then you just hope that the reward was greater than the risk.