Windows
Driving down the street, darkness filled the interior of the little old station wagon until slowly, a light crept in growing larger and larger until everything was lit up for a moment before fading away again. Over and over the light would come and go as they slowly approached their destination. The snowbanks outside sparkled in time with the rhythm of the growing light. After several minutes, the familiar road led them to the hospital where he had been staying for several weeks.
She walked in, next to her mother, and found a spot on the same couch she had sat in so many times before. Her mother gave her a few 
dollars to spend and disappeared past the sign that read, “No visitors under 12 years of age allowed.” She sat down and waited. The volunteer at the entrance greeted her by name and asked her how her day at school was. “Fine,” she answered as she pulled off her shoes and sat cross legged while watching the preset television station, happy that she didn’t have to share the room with anybody else.
Sometimes she just sat on the big, hard couch. Other times she would explore, her domain consisted of a waiting room, a chapel, three small stairs to a tiny gift shop, and beyond the angry sign where the bathrooms and elevators sat. Those destinations beyond the sign could only be reached with the approval of the volunteer sitting at the desk. She knew each volunteer; some watched her closer than others. Some volunteers allowed her to explore beyond the sign without getting permission first, others required their permission, and still others never allowed her to go beyond the sign under any circumstances other than a dire need for the bathroom.
After several minutes, she took the money out of her pocket and went to the cramped gift shop. She stared at the candy choices and finally settled on a small bag of chocolate. Returning to the couch, she opened the package and ate the candy quickly, then looked for something else to do. The “Highlight” magazines were all marked up, making the hidden pictures boring. There were no new magazines, hardly surprising considering that she had been there the night before, and the night before that, and every night for the past several weeks. He was always in the hospital for weeks at a time. In those days, when you had a heart attack, you stayed in the hospital for almost a month each time, and he had suffered through many heart attacks over the years.
A few more minutes went by until she got up to walk around again, this time walking toward the entrance doors and peeking into the chapel. The small room was filled with wooden pews, stained glass, and a large altar where the ominous cross sat. In front of it there were a few small lit candles. She walked down the aisle, finding a spot on one of the dark wooden pews. She sat there for a few minutes, wondering how many services had been held in the room, wondering how many people had sat where she sat right now. Wondering how many of them had come to this room to cry in private. She had seen people crying in this room before, but otherwise it was almost always empty when she came to visit. Surely that room had its stories to tell. She sat, and waited.
Once in awhile, her older brother would come along. He could go past the sign that kept her in the small world of the waiting area. He would go to hospital room to visit him for awhile, later returning to her in the waiting room. They would buy some candy together, and play their favorite game. Each one had their own elevator. They peeked out the doors, looking at one another until one of them called out a number, “Three!” he shouted and then quickly ducked back into his elevator. She giggled, popped inside her elevator and quickly pressed the number three. Staring at the lights above the door, she willed the elevator to go faster. Finally, the bell announced her arrival, the doors parted, and she popped her head back out of the doors to find her brother standing outside of his elevator doors, hands on hips and smiling, that sassy smile of victory. It was her turn. “Basement!” she yelled, and both of them retreated back into their elevators to play again. On the way down, there was a sudden stop as the doors opened on the main floor to admit adults who were there to visit their family. He would beat her again. This was usually the case; he usually beat her. Still, this was her favorite game to play to break up the hours of just sitting and waiting.
Other times, a nurse from his floor would come down to talk to her. On a winter night, like this one, she wore her long woolen coat. The nurse talked to her for a few minutes, winked at the volunteer, and then unbuttoned her coat. She motioned for the girl to sneak underneath. Once inside, the nurse closed the coat around both of them and she guided her slowly, blindly, up the steps, into the elevator, and into his room where the little girl could spend a few secretive moments talking to him. The little girl sat many nights, hoping that a nurse with a long winter coat would come into the waiting room. It only happened two or three times of the many times she sat on that couch, but those were magical visits.
Looking around the room, she saw the phone where she could talk to him, and the camera high up in the corner on one wall. These were used for him to call her, and the camera could show her on the television in his room while they talked on the phone. She could not see him, but she could at least talk to him. One time, as she talked to him on the phone, he told her to put the phone down and sit by the 
big window at the end of the waiting room to watch for a surprise. She hung up and hopped to the window and waited. Several minutes later, she saw the metal pole, bouncing from side to side, then his red robe, the nurse supporting him underneath his arm as he cautiously managed each step. Once at the window at the bottom of the stairwell, he looked at her, smiled, and waved. Smiling from ear to ear, she did the same. After many years, the heart attacks were too much, and she didn’t have to go to the hospital waiting room, she didn’t race elevators, sit in the chapel, or shop for candy in the gift store anymore.
Many years went by, and the little girl was all grown up and married. One day, her husband wasn’t feeling well and he went to the emergency room. After running several tests, the team of doctors rushed back into the room. They connected wires and turned on the machine she had seen so many times before. They asked him if he was having any chest pain. He was only 36 years old, but they said he was having a heart attack. Their hospital didn’t have a cardiac unit so he would be transferred to the next town by ambulance.
Once he was strapped down and moved to the ambulance bay, she walked out to her car, alone. Shocked and fearful, she drove the thirty miles to the hospital with the small chapel, the steps to the gift shop, and the elevators that she had raced in with her brother so many years before. The visitor warning sign had been removed, young children could now visit family as often and for as long as they wished. She looked at the spot where the sign had stood, feeling both happy for the young children that could now visit their family and angry that the sign couldn’t have been removed when she was little. She walked up to the volunteer and asked her if she knew which room her husband was in. She did not. It didn’t matter, her feet knew the way to the third floor, they knew to turn left, and walk down another hallway to the nurse’s station as she had walked before, underneath a nurse’s coat. She found his room, and they talked for a long time.
He would be in the hospital for only a few days, not a few weeks like her father had been. He had been lucky, the heart attack was small and hadn’t done serious damage to his heart. After several hours, it was time for her to leave and drive the thirty miles back home to get their young daughters. 
She kissed him goodbye, gathered her things, and stepped into the hallway. Feeling the heat of tears building, she decided to take the stairwell. Without making eye contact with any of the medical staff, she pushed open the heavy door and heard the echo as it closed with a metallic thud. She approached the stairs only to realize that these were the same stairs. These were the stairs that he had bobbled down with the help of a nurse. First guiding the metal pole and then stepping gingerly down towards the window where she waited several floors below, at the window of a different room. She now took those same steps, and walked up to the window. She looked down upon the room where she sat as a little girl. She had come full circle and the reality of this brought her to her knees as she sobbed alone in the stairwell. At his window.
If you, or someone you care about is dealing with grief, here are some tips for coping with grief from people who are dealing with it themselves!
Be sure to click the subscribe button and follow me on social media so you can stay up to date with all of the latest information and stories to help live through grief!
