"God is within her, she will not fail." Psalm 46:5
Have you ever watched a dream, just slip away…
Dusk into dawn, night into day.
Have you ever had a vision, vanish into thin air…
Smile all the while, pretend you don’t care.
Have you ever felt the shatter of a desire so deep…
Long nights you weep, the secrets you keep.
Have you ever?
A new dream. A new vision. A brand new day…
Head bowed, eyes closed, begin to pray…
Oh please, Oh please, please don’t let it slip away.
A loud cough echoed through the hospital corridor. Then came another. And another. It felt like a scene out of a movie. Something was going on. Something was wrong. This felt like war. The enemy was invisible but it had arrived nonetheless. I wrapped my stethoscope around my neck and adjusted my ponytail. It was time to fight.
The slow and steady beep of the ventilator pulled me from my thoughts. I knew that sound. Even in my dreams. I knew all of the sounds. They haunted me. By now, I could program an IV pump with my eyes closed.
I glanced over at the isolation cart in the hallway. It was just a small cart filled with medical supplies but it represented so much more. It was almost as if it stood there looming, watching, waiting.
A keeper of the unknown.
The air smelled of antiseptic and freshly laundered linens. It was normally a welcomed smell. A comforting reminder of the cleanliness that surrounded me. Today, it represented so much more. My tennis shoes made the slightest squeak against the buffed floor as I made my way over, one foot in front of the other.
I began to clothe myself for battle.
One arm at a time, I pulled the gown over my shoulders. Little paper bags stood in a huddle in the corner. I read the names one by one in my head. All soldiers at the ready. My eyes landed on the one that had my name written across the front and I reached inside. My fingers traced the edge of the mask that lie before me. I had never quite realized its value before. Cradling it in my gloved hands, I took a moment to appreciate it.
Then came a cough. A wet one. A cry for help.
In what felt like one smooth motion, I had secured my mask at the nose and the ears. I moved so quickly that I felt wind beneath my gown.
I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me.
My patient lie still in bed, a look on his face that could only be described as a mixture of worry and distress. I adjusted his oxygen and reassured him with deep breaths.
He reached for my hand and I took his in mine. In that moment, I was the only support that he had. I didn’t want him to feel afraid. He drifted off to sleep with me standing there, still holding my hand.
I glanced at the television and saw the words GLOBAL PANDEMIC roll across the bottom of the screen.
It was only the beginning.
Life as we all knew it had officially changed.
My phone dinged again. I looked down at it just in time to see the notification for a new comment disappear and be replaced with another. I smiled. Our YouTube family. A huge unit comprised of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins and more…from all over the world. Standing in our corner. It was amazing. It was inspiring…
I was worried and I was scared. I wanted to reach out to our online family to let them know what was going on. They had become a big part of our lives and we shared many aspects of it with them. Many had already started to ask questions. I wanted to include them in this huge moment.
I stared at my phone in my hand and almost changed my mind. My finger shakily pressed the button before I did. In a moment, I would be live. Who would see this? I had no clue. I tried to pull myself together as people started to appear. Someone asked ‘What’s wrong Sierra?’ and I lost it. Tears caught me by surprise as they spilled from both eyes.
I became angry at myself. I was here for a reason. To inform them of what was going on. I could barely get the words out. ‘Sean has been deployed.’ I said it through tears. I felt so vulnerable, but these people loved us so much. They were our family. The outpouring of support was almost immediate. I confided in them. Talking slowly and covering one point at a time. I told them as much as I could without compromising the safety of my husband and his unit. I asked for prayers. I wanted all the prayers that I could get and I smiled as they started sending them immediately. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. There was power in prayer. There was safety in numbers. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone.
The comments came in from everywhere. One behind the other. Heartfelt messages filled with concern flooded our DMs. I felt so much love. I wrote down every scripture. Agreed with every prayer. Accepted every well wish. I felt covered from all angles.
We now had an army standing in our corner.
I was so grateful. I am still so grateful. Some of my toughest times were in the beginning. Everything was a blur. Tensions were high. Heading into the unknown, we were all scared. ALL of us. I had my faith. I had my family. At the time, I didn’t realize that I had even more.
I love you guys so much.
From the bottom of my heart, Thank you.
It was my first time returning to the beach. The last time I was here, I had my husband at my side. Hand in hand. Heart in Heart. Now I stood alone before the wide open sea. The water beckoned for me, pulling me from my thoughts. The time for healing was now...
I stepped into the ocean and allowed it to envelope me. The blue green water was clear like crystals and just as sparkly. Where had I seen this green before? It took only a moment for me to realize. His eyes! The water was green like his eyes! Clear. Welcoming. Honest. Instantly, I felt his presence. I closed mine and smiled, standing right there at the edge of the sea. Time had made me resilient. Prayer had made me stronger. My support system had made me confident.
The air was so fresh. It was almost as if the atmosphere was different. I inhaled deeply. Each breath I took seemed to make me feel more liberated. I walked along the edge where the sea met the sand. Funny how it always stopped just in time. Life could be that way. Never quite bringing more than you can handle. Coming so close that for a moment you think it might overwhelm you, then it backs away.
In the beginning, I had allowed myself a period of time for sadness. A natural emotion to be expressed. Regardless of how anyone else felt I should be acting, I knew it was important to be myself. Yes, I missed my husband. The man that I spent countless hours and days with. The man that I loved so dearly. The man that made me feel as though I could do anything. To have that suddenly ripped away from me, regardless of the fact that it would not be permanent, was destined to cause some emotions. We didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye. Of course I was sad.
That was in the beginning. Now, I was ready to heal. What better place than the wide open sea? The place where everything had started? I had always felt so free at the beach. The sun was shining bright in the sky. Children were laughing and splashing in the water nearby. I almost didn’t realize that I was still standing there smiling. Things were looking up.
I had spoken to my husband. I had developed a strong routine. I had visited with family and gotten enough support to last a lifetime. I had leaned on my faith and left the rest to GOD. The initial shock had passed. I wanted to be strong for him, for me. I needed to. I looked back at the ocean and smiled. I was ready to tell my story.
SierraSweetheart 