She could have been a giving-up kind of girl. Never stubborn. Never strong. Always bending with the winds of what happened "to" her and "against her" and by the others' wrongs. She could have come from a family that had fear at its core instead of love and faith. And all her friends might have given up when she didn't walk or talk or act the "normal" way she had been that made them laugh with her and feel comfort in her being 'just like them." She could have blamed so many for so much. The doctors never showed themselves. The hospital was so cold. The stories of her accident and care could have brought her pain and fear and an unforgiving heart. She could have said, I never want to know or go back or see or feel how it was at that time. I will separate myself from "them" and "that." She could have wanted to wait until she was perfect in her sight or bigger than they or could in some way hurt them all, whoever all of "them" might be. And fear and anger at her God and what He had taken could have consumed her faith. But just as Peter in the story her Uncle told, she held strongly to her faith that led her to forgiveness and to the love He promises us all. And to this day of love, Cynthia's and Joe's daughter Catherine courageously came to celebrate a year of miracles with those "others."

And I was there to see it all. For there I sat with "family" all around, and hugs, and care, and valentines; and tasted all the cookies baked for this event. Ah, home-baked cookies always have meant love to me. I remembered just a year ago, when Chanda, foreign student from Nepal, and 1 had baked and decorated cookies with such despair! And took them to a waiting room outside intensive care, where so many sat with tears upon their faces and their hearts. And now in front of me were poster boards of hearts so inspirationally done for Christian Catherine by a pious Hindu girl, who lost her Aunty just that week, but found a way to love on this creative day. I was simply overwhelmed with all of this and more. To be in the place which I had started as a nurse and watch the healing touch of love be given thus in front of me. And all the other nurses there, and doctors too, so happy in themselves, and feeling free, and good, and full of hope and helpfulness that could be shared by them with others in their care. And I must say God's grace that day was given me, as I saw clear the wondrous gifts we all had gained, in His great classroom of Forgiveness 101, or 2, or maybe even 3.
 

Dear Robin:
On Valentines day of '98 a friend rang my hotel in Tucson to tell me to get to the hospital as there had been an accident. You know of the pain, heartache, and lows that we went through knowing one of ours was hurting. ... We shed several tears then and many prayers.  I had a calm assurance that God was in control and that Catherine was going to be well.

Fast forward to Friday, February 12, 1999 at UMC, Tucson. Same hospital, same parking, same entrance, same fifth floor hallway, same ICU waiting room, Different Recovery Room.  As my 23 yr. old son and I approached the hospital off of Campbell Ave., I was very happy that this day had arrived. Memories started flooding my brain. We parked and I had a zip in my step.  As we walked in to the hospital, I remembered my prayer of a year ago:  "God, I claim every piece of ground that I place my foot on, I claim this hospital, this situation, for Your Honor and Glory."  My prayer had been answered for Catherine.  We met friends in the lobby and they were just as happy and celebratory.

I cannot explain what came over me as I turned the corner into the hallway.  The same corner we turned with Catherine after her MRI (while she was unconscious and intebated).  This same corner we turned with Catherine, friends joined in a semi circle around her gurney.  We escorted Catherine a year earlier down this long hallway, reminding her unconscious mind of the Scriptures, of what God said He will do, and singing songs to her.

Now, this hallway reflected HIM.  My mind, my heart, my soul was now walking this hall in praise and honor unto HIM.
The scenes of one year earlier kept flashing on the screen of my mind: The waiting room overflowing with friends and family (and food!).  The encouragement and comfort of each person.  The other families in the waiting room who were suffering at the same time.  Joe Daulton telling us the "cold, hard, facts."  The diagnosis of a brain stem shearing. The Joys (Daulton's), saying they knew Catherine had given them the "thumb's up."  Talking to Catherine and having her blood pressure soar.  The agony, the pain.  Matt and I saying we were going to come back in a year. NOT GIVING UP.

I am not a crier.  As I took each step closer to room 5642 the memories flooded my soul and overflowed the spillways of my eyes.  Some of the same people who had suffered together were there rejoicing.  Seeing the doctors and nurses, Joe and Cynthia, and Catherine thrilled me.  God thrilled me once again.   I have had God very real in my life. He again quietly performed His Word, His Will.  I rejoiced.  I do not know of words to adequately describe what I felt.  MMMMM-possibly.  YES!-possibly. That same feeling when Daddy tucked you in bed at night and everything was all right.  Ecstasy, Joy  Rejoicing.  Better than your team winning the super bowl.  This is life.  This is God. I cannot explain my feelings.  How do you explain God?  I was thrilled.

Kathy Robson