Waiting and Hoping

There is nothing like gaining new perspective on life. There is no better place to do so than the waiting area of the Intensive Care Unit of any hospital. Life has never looked so fragile, unpredictable and totally out of our own control than in the last one month.

I spent the last month in one such waiting area whilst my dad lay enveloped by tubes, needles and machines battling one such unpredictability of life. When he went for his morning walk one Sunday morning, little did anyone know how all our lives were going to change.
But then, little did anyone else in the waiting area of the ICU know how their lives were going to change over one day, one week, or one month.

Families waiting for several weeks continued waiting, continued hoping that tomorrow would give them something to call home and be happy about. Parents experiencing parenthood for the first time were waiting to see their child out of a glass box and hold their child in their arms without having to be careful of all the tubes and bandages. Children living away from home were battling their personal demons about not being there when their parents needed them the most. Family elders were sitting there trying to imagine outliving their children.

Everyone was questioning life and its uncertainity. And in all this uncertainity and doubt, the one thing that shone through was hope. The hope that everyone lived with. The hope that everyone gave the other. The hope that made the waiting a little bit easier.