Conflict and Resolution?
My older brother and I do not get along. It’s a sad story, I suppose. Both in our 50’s, we live miles apart literally and figuratively. The figurative distance started in childhood. And now, he has five children—the oldest and I have found an adult connection, one I value very much. When she was born over 20 years ago, I wrote her a story about reaching for the moon.
The other day, she wrote me a story. She is a nurse in a NICU unit. Here’s how it goes:
Sunday at work my patient took an unexpected turn for the worse, coded and died…I know that this is my job and that deaths happen, but it is more than that. It is a baby’s life…at noon this baby seemed find by even the doctors’ standards. Then he died at four o’clock. This was the first death and code I have experienced…This baby had a severe heart condition and was premature, so I know that in some ways it was better because he still had a long, painful road to go. However, it doesn’t really make it easier…Because his parents lived out of town, they were unable to make it there before we stopped CPR for his baptism. So that meant I was the one to hold him as he died…
I wrote back to my niece, urging her to continue writing about her experiences. And she responded that her fiancé bought her a journal, just for that purpose.
Perhaps it is predictable that my estranged brother’s daughter would grow up to tell me stories. We are all so connected by our conflicts, our crises, our resolutions. Stories really do matter.
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