Make sure you read this one to the
end. Very bizarre---and true
Fate, God or Coincidence?
It was one of those occurrences
that seem all the more peculiar with the passage of time and reflection. My wife and I were headed home on a Sunday
evening with our two year old son fast asleep in the back seat. We had spent a wonderful day at a backyard
barbeque with friends, a day of fun in the sun that had left us all
exhausted. I could think of nothing
better than a hot shower and eight hours of sleep. Our route home took us
within a couple of miles of the Bloomington General Hospital.
“Why don’t we stop by and see
your mother,” I asked through a yawn.
Even now I have no explanation why
I would have suggested this, especially given our state of mind. My mother-in-law had been working part-time
as an RN for the hospital for the past six years. We had never visited her on a shift— it
simply wasn’t something we considered.
I’m not even sure it was acceptable.
Moreover, we had been getting together in some form or fashion nearly
every week of our four year marriage.
There was no feeling of need or obligation to visit the hospital that
day.
When we look back, the memory of
how we went from suggestion to visitation is hazy at best. We found ourselves behind the closed doors of
the west wing elevator when an unexpected calm came over me. I typically can not stand the hospitals; the
smells; the gloom; the death—not my cup of tea.
But this day was different somehow.
I was overcome with a feeling of unfamiliar expectancy.
We spotted my mother-in-law almost
instantly as the elevator doors opened.
As usual, she offered us only a passing smile before focusing all of her
attention on her beloved grandson.
Now here’s where a simple
occurrence becomes extraordinary. The
elevator doors open behind us and out walks Dr. Dina Davis. A brief background is necessary here;
I married my wife well-knowing that
we may never be able to have children of our own. We heard cutting words like barren and
infertile from medical professionals.
Some gave us a remote chance still others quickly moved the conversation
to adoption. My deep love for my wife
out-weighed all other issues at hand. We
married and never looked back—then came Dr. Davis.
My wife told me of new methods and
medicines that a certain Dr. Davis was advocating. They were groundbreaking methods
that were receiving the standard scoff from the medical community. And now she
wanted to try them on my wife. By now I knew the pain that hope could
bring. I consented nonetheless.
Needless to say; her methods
worked. Two more times in fact.
So here we are over 2 years later
and I’m harboring my own personal guilt.
I had never met the woman responsible for my son. That’s right, pretty pathetic. I mentioned my desire to do so to my wife on
numerous occasions but never took the time. A hectic work schedule, travel,
etc., you know the usual excuses. Dr.
Davis had performed her magic and slipped into the background. She didn’t deliver our son, she merely made
it possible. And I never took the effort
to meet her.
So here I am face to face with Dr.
Davis. I’m noticeably embarrassed but
she washes away all awkwardness with a warm smile and a full embrace. We talk
for a full fifteen minutes. She’s a
delightful and impressive woman—full of energy and infectious optimism. She strokes my son’s face with a sparkle in
her eye. She’s the kind of person that
makes an immediate impact. The kind that
you know instantly you will never forget.
Her presence here this day is as
peculiar as this story’s outcome. Dr.
Davis seldom came to this hospital and certainly never on a Sunday. She was here to pay a personal visit to a
friend on the third floor. We were on
the fifth. She had pushed the wrong
floor number.
Through a twist of fate I had met
the miracle woman. Not that big of a
deal, right? Read on.
Dr. Davis died of a heart attack
the following morning. She was only
55. Up until the moment of her death
there had been no telltale sign of heart concerns.
A sad but true story.
Fate, God or Coincidence?
Check out my bestselling ebooks. Just
enter Don McGraw into your reader and enjoy!
Twitter @whogarth
Twitter @donjmcgraw
