April 19, 1985

She was sitting in the big granny rocker that's in the corner of my counseling room. I guessed her age to be 10 years younger than she actually was. She was delightful in demeanor but in her eyes were a sadness that compelled me to look closer.

I never cease to be amazed at women's stories. I am also reminded frequently at how many details of the "vpt" day that come to mind when "the story" gets told. She remembered "that day" very well. Her "vpt" day was April 19, 1985. She described the weather, the doctor's office, the doctor's face, the feel of her husband's hand as he stood beside her and squeezed it. Tears were flowing and her voice shook. So much emotion there that had never been expressed! Her tone turned to anger as she talked about the reasons why. It softened as she went into the "what-if's" and the "I wonders." "I wonder what my child would have looked like. Would it be a girl, one like my precious 25 year old daughter...the light of my life.?"

I could go on recounting the story. The important thing is that someone was there to hear her story. Someone was there to listen with compassion and hand her a kleenex to wipe the tear falling down her cheek. It is so good to tell our stories. This is the beginning of finding our way home ...to comfort and to peace. ~Selah.