From despair to hope

Yesterday I felt like Hannah in the bible. There I was in a hospital room having a raging battle with God. First was pleading,begging,which then slowly turns to anger,to despair. What happens when one is prisoner of ones memories. A first traumatic experience of seeing life ebb away was enough to scar me for life. Much as I deny its existence the memories pop up like bad pennies. More so when a medical crisis occurs involving an old parent. The need a blood test they say and try to draw blood. Twenty minutes later there is no progress....the last time this happened it was the end. This time I am furious with God. Why oh why I ask do you test someone so much. What did my mother do to deserve to go through this trauma. Why do some people live medical emergency free lives and drop dead without much ado ? Questions for which I have no answers. I pray for twenty minutes and nothing happens. Few hours later the doctor arrives. She as usual is well groomed,ready smile on her face,twinkling eyes and a positive attitude. She is pretty much half the solution. She always focuses on the positives while delivering not so good news in a way that doesn't get one all het up. She tells my mother she is on the mend however slowly,tells her she should be able to go home soon. Gets a lot of stuff organised the moment my mothe complains of pain and leaves the room with good cheer behind. My mother comes to life again. Then her cousin decides to visit. A cousin who have been in and out of hospital,who is so ill that I wouldn't recommend she travelled as far as she did to meet my mother. Her husband all of ninety and suffering dementia also comes along. The laught and the warmth they radiate is so uplifting. She is such a source of strength. Nothing worries her,she can laugh at her lack of hearing. She tells my mother it's a huge joke that they meet despite my mother saying they may never meet again. She tells my mother that she is going to be fine,sharing similar experiences that she has survived. As both ladies are deaf to a degree,her son and I do all the transcriptions. Her son has to deal with both parents single handed and he is calm and patient. I watch and marvel at their attitude. What am I complaining about. Here I am with enough infrastructure on hand so why a, I raging with God. They visit ends and my mother and I have a good gossip session . She talks nineteen to the dozen and I am happy to go along. She tells me how frightened she was and we share our fears. At the end of the day I am far more cheerful than when I started,having had a bath,a good sleep and seeing my mother in better spirits. It's a far more humble person talking to God now,someone who has learnt that as a human it's ok to argue with God,it's ok to despai but in the end there is a quiet confidence that the good lord above has enough ways to deal with my pain,enough ways to teach me things I don't understand and in the process make me a better person