Prayers for Gwen

Tomorrow is another big day for Gwen.  The doctors are going to attempt to take Gwen off the breathing machine and pull her out of anesthesia.  It will be seven days since the accident.  She will no longer be comfortable, but very aware of her pain.  My heart goes out to her, as well as my sister and Jon as they will have to witness this painful yet very necessary transition.  I can't even begin to imagine. . .   

I was talking to a my friend today about the lessons that come so quickly from difficult - sometimes unimaginable - situations.  It's crazy. Why does it take something so horribly complicated to teach us something so beautifully simple? I'm telling you, I am already different with my girls. I move a little slower, I smile a little more and stress a little less, I talk a little softer and I hold them a little tighter. I sit and talk with them while they eat their entire lunch, not just for the first few minutes. I sit on the floor with them to help pick out their outfit instead of just hovering over them. I stuck around to see who the bad guy was at the end of Scooby Doo . . . and acted surprised. Tonight I rocked Eden to sleep and just watched her breath so effortlessly.  It made me cry.  These things we never ever think about. But now I do. 

And for that huge lesson, I am grateful to tiny Gwen.