My eyes were fixated on the heart monitor; just waiting for that predicted flat line.
He was 88 years old.
One by one, each family member walked into that room to give their final goodbye. Each grandchild, son, and daughter bravely walked into that room preparing themselves to see his face for the last time. Each walked out with tears in their eyes.
Then, it was simply a waiting game.
Waiting for that flat line.
With his imminent death approaching, this hospital visit was supposed to be an hour or two. It ended up lasting two days.
There were a few false alarms.
His heart beat would slow to almost a complete stop. Then, suddenly his heart rate would race back up to normal. This went on for two days.
He was either willing his heart and body to keep on fighting or his heart was fighting on its' own.
For those two days, family members shared stories of this man. It was as if he could hear them and in his own way, he kept his heart beating just so he could relive those days with them.
As an outside observer, those two days were filled with sobering moments but I also believed I was witnessing a miracle.
He died on a Sunday.
He died of heart failure.
But damn did that man try like hell to prolong his life. For them. His family.
I don't remember saying much those two days in that hospital. I only recall being fixated on his heart monitor and waiting for this old man to die.
That fact alone is a miracle.
It's amazing that an organ the size of two fists will continuously beat every day, every minute of our lives.
2.5 billion times. Over and over.
It speeds up when we are nervous or excited. It slows down while we sleep. It picks up pace as we awake. And it keeps on beating.
We fill our systems with stimulants like nicotine or alcohol or chocolate or even worse and it keeps on beating.
It's a miracle it doesn't fail us when we are asleep. Each of us falls asleep every night with complete faith that this fragile yet resiliant organ in our chest will not fail us. And it doesn't.
For those who say they don't have faith, well, they are wrong. We have faith and some of us don't even know it.
I don't believe faith is resigned to those who say, "I believe".
Faith is as simple as sitting in a chair. No one doubts that the chair will fail you and cause us to crash onto the floor. We sit down knowing we are safe.
That's beautiful.
Faith is beautiful. Faith and not even realizing you have faith is majestic.
My heart has taken a beating in my short life. I have been diagnosed with an enlarged heart. I supposed those extra inches have prevented my heart from failing.
That's my theory.
But I'm really no different than anyone else.
All of our hearts have taken a beating in our lives. And guess what? Our hearts keep on beating. It's a miracle.
I love someone so much it actually hurts right where my heart is. As my heart pumps blood throughout my body, my adrenaline kicks in and that love I have for her results in this unspeakable joy.
That's beautiful.
How beautiful it is to love someone and to hurt and to feel joy all at the same moment.
It's indescribable unless you know what I'm talking about.
At those low moments in my life, my heart fights for me. And I reward her when I reach those high points.
My heart and I have this give and take relationship. She never fails me.
2.5 billion beats in a lifetime without fail. Through death, tragedy, negative artificial means, highs, lows, fear, tensions and joy; our hearts keep on beating.
It's amazing.
Do you know how I want to die?
I want to die from heart failure.
Because I will know that she fought as hard and as long as she could for me to prolong my quality of life.
Even if I don't reach that 2.5 billion heart beats, I will know she gave her all for me.
That is beautiful.
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