Hope and Belief

I had moved from her room and was now leaning up against the door way. From where I stood I could see just the bottom half of her watching her briefly before I returned to the nurses station. She had been brought to us from another hospital; pyschotic and fragile, and wanting to end her life and had now fallen asleep. The hallway that I was also monitoring was unusually quiet with patients either in their rooms or in the group that had just begun at the other end of the hall. I gazed down that hall at the closed doors and reflected on how that room and these halls took on different meaning than they had only a short few years ago.

I don't remember getting on or off the elevator when I would come to visit as I do now. I don't remember the nurses or even the nurses station that I would pass by. I don't remember much of anything other than having a feeling of hopelessness - but also a strong feeling of needing to believe. I do remember that. I sense those feelings too in many of the family and friends that climb off that elevator, as I had done countless of times. Today those doors and this hallway take on new meaning. I am on the other side I think to myself. Everytime that elevator door closes behind me I smile inwordly thinking of Jordan still sleeping, this time peacefully at home. I think of how knowing "hopelessness" has taught me. And "believing" is what carried me through. I look back once more before walking away and I think of her and all the others, if they cannot for themselves, then someone must have hope and belief.

"Every color of life is equally beautiful and to be equally enjoyed.