Yesterday the kids and I went to Wal-mart to pick up some groceries and pictures. As we were standing in line at the photo counter, a man who was in his 70's started talking to Jay. He asked me how old he was and when I replied that he was almost ten, the man commented on how small he was. So I told him that Jay only weighed 1 pound and 14 ounces when he was born. He looked at me for a minute and replied that his child weighed 2 pounds when he was born and lived 20 hours.
It stopped me for a moment. I could see that even 50 years later, this man was still a father to that child. He told me that he always thought if the baby had made it to Riley he would have survived. So I told him that Jay was born just on that medical campus and I was sure that made all the difference for him.
He was quiet for a few minutes and then he told me that 5 months later his wife died of cancer at the age of 23. As I thought about it, I realized that this man had probably never remarried. And in 5 months he had buried his family. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe he went on to have a dozen more kids with is 2nd wife. But I have the sneakingest feeling that he didn't.
I don't know why this seemingly innocent conversation has weighed so heavy on me the last 2 days. I have always been thankful for everything that was done to save Jay's life.
This man asked me how old Dani was and then asked if she was okay, which I will admit made me laugh a little. I told him she was just fine. He wanted to know if she came early and I told him just a few weeks. He wished me luck, blessed Jason's little heart and went on his way.
I'll probably never see him again. But he is still with me. Still here reminding me that we don't all get the chance that I did. I won't call it luck and I won't say that I'm extra blessed because I don't believe God loves me more than anyone else. But I will say that I lead a very blessed life.