I was watching a story being told on CNN last night of a 13-year-old girl by the name of Jahi McMath, who recently went in to have a routine tonsillectomy and suffered a serious hemorrhage following her surgery.
She is now in a coma with her medical team explaining to the family that she is “brain dead” and should now be taken off life support.
The mother was adamant that her child needed time to heal and would come out of the coma.
Their faith as a family was strong and their belief in the power of prayer was unquestionable.
This loving mom is expecting a miracle and holding firmly to her belief that this is possible.
I nodded my head as I listened to her talk, knowing that as a mother
she was trusting in her own instincts and knowingness, which is not always easy to do when surrounded by a medical community that is not too comfortable in accepting the possibility of miracles.
Over the course of my life, I have had the joy of experiencing, and witnessing, miracles in action.
The first was when my father was dying from terminal cancer.
My sister and I had lovingly cared for him in my parent’s home for many months and we knew he was close to death.
Following some complications, a decision was made to move him to the palliative care ward at KGH.
It was a difficult decision as we had wanted him to be able to die at home.
That evening, I felt completely helpless as to what to do next and how to ease his transition from this life.
I was not a religious or spiritual person at the time, but in my feeling of immense powerlessness, I asked God for help in the simplest of ways as I cried in my grief.
A warm energy of the most profound love engulfed me in a way that is hard to describe, letting me know that all was well and that I could let go.
It was a vibration that was so intimate and yet intense as I felt surrounded by angels in a way that could not be questioned.
I fell into the deepest sleep I have ever experienced and awoke at five a.m., wondering where I’d been.
When I reached the hospital, my dad had slipped into a coma that went on for four days.
It was a cold November day and yet the sun had come out in all its glory to shine incredibly brightly through his hospital window.
My mom, three sisters and I moved his hospital bed over to the window and with the Mills Brothers playing softly in the background, we all quietly joined together to create a circle of love around him.
My hands were cupping each side of his head and my thoughts focused on letting him know we would be OK and that it was safe for him to let go.
Despite being in a coma, I watched as a tear began to fall, ever so gently from his right eye, slowly down his cheek to reach the pillow.
A wash of the same deep vibration I had experienced the night before came over me and I heard the words spoken from these angels: “Love is all that matters.”
This experience was life-changing for me and provided an unquestionable acceptance and faith that we are never alone.
These past 22 years have been an unfolding of miracles that began with that experience.
That December, after my father’s death, I went to a local nursing home and asked them if I could bring two residents to my home to join my family for Christmas dinner.
They selected two elders who they thought would most benefit and Christmas Day I went to pick them up.
It was such a joyful experience to give the gift of love I had received from my Dad on the day before his passing, to the two dear seniors who had no family close by.
It began a journey of learning to understand what unconditional love and giving is and how it fills your own heart in a way that nothing else can compare with.
I watched several years ago as a dear friend also had a surgery go very wrong and the result was a sudden, life threatening coma.
Within two days, a pronouncement was sadly made by the medical staff that all evidence showed that she was clearly brain dead.
Six close friends stood vigil around her with a knowingness that she also needed time to heal.
After declining a request to use her organs to donate to others, her chosen health representative held firm and waited patiently.
Prayers were requested from everyone who knew and loved her and from complete strangers.
Within 24 hours, the many machines that were keeping my dear friend alive began to show signs of change.
Within another few days she opened her eyes and her amazing recovery began.
“We cannot explain it,” the many doctors and nurses said. “It is a miracle.”
So, when you read this column, stop what you are doing and say a prayer for Jahi and her family.
Perhaps through the love of others, they can receive a miracle as well at this difficult time, even if it is the knowingness that they are not alone.
As you go through this holiday season, there may be a senior too who crosses your path that can benefit from you simply pausing to see or feel their need.
Offering what you have that is so easily given if the simple choice is made to just do it—a smile, a surprise gift, a sidewalk shovelled, an invitation to fill one more seat at dinner—all are little miracles that can be created by just extending a moment of your time.
Happy holidays everyone.
