The Light Regained

The waiting room was warm and welcoming, a pile of well used magazines lay on a chair and a coffee machine sat purring in the corner of the room.

Sam sat leaning forward with his head down. He didn’t like hospitals, the antiseptic smell, the extreme heat and the flickering fluorescent lights.

Too many bad memories haunted the Bridgeford Hospital for him.

Like the day his Ma and Pa had to bring little Billy in to have his leg stitched after falling off his bike, all the blood and screaming. Sam had only been nine and Billy eleven at the time. His leg had taken an age to heal, mainly because Billy kept picking off the scab.

Then there had been the time that Ma had slipped on some ice and cracked her head. The local lads had made a slide in the snow down the pavement, but Ma hadn’t seen it and come a cropper. They had given her a brain scan and Pa had jokingly said that it would be a blank photo. Luckily for Ma they hadn’t found anything wrong and all she ended up with was an egg on her head and a headache.

When Sam was fifteen, Pa had a heart attack and had been rushed into the hospital to be strapped to a machine that monitored his heart beat. Pa had died two days later. There had been complications and his heart had been weak.

Then there had been Maria……..

They had all attended church when he and Billy had been young. Old Reverend Bumble had taken the services and his voice had boomed down from the altar. Both he and Billy had been baptised in St Luke’s and had attended the Sunday school. Although both boys would rather have been out in the park on a Sunday they dutifully sat with their parents and listened to the often wandering diatribes of Mr Bumble. What Sam had got out of the services and instruction at Sunday school was that God looked after everyone and his love was infinite. No problem was too great for God and prayer and devotion to Him helped a person lead their daily life.

He and Maria had been married at St Luke’s and true to form the Rev. Anthony Bumble had presided. Standing tall in his purple and black vestments he had joined the young couple together in the sight of God till ‘death us do part’ and smiled benignly as they kissed. Halcyon days - so quickly gone!

“Can I get you a coffee Dad?” Stephen, Sam’s son asked. His eyes were red and bloodshot and Sam could see a ‘nine o’clock shadow’ about his jaw.

“No,” Sam replied. “Is there any news yet?”

Stephen shook his head and looked across to where Marjory his wife sat. Her eyes were closed, her hands clasped in prayer and her mouth moved silently pleading, as large teardrops ran down her face.

Sam hung his head again and lost himself in reverie.

Their two boys James and Stephen had been born two and four years later. Both had been good babies quickly sleeping through the night. Maria’s mum and dad had come to stay and helped with the children. Sam and Maria had even managed a holiday away in Blackpool for a fortnight, thanks to the kindness of their parents. Sam’s mum was a great favourite with both boys buying them sweets and letting them sit up late.

Sam had insisted that the boys were baptised in St Luke’s and his family attended the services each Sunday. Rev. Bumble had by that time passed away and his place had been taken by a young minister who liked the congregation to call him John. His official title being the Rev. Dr. John Barriston. A nice man, whose wife, Margaret supported him at fetes, Sunday school picnics and coffee mornings.

After hearing his boys, now nine and ten years old, complaining to their mother about having to go to church and Sunday school, Sam explained to them the value of a Christian upbringing, but, as a cocession he would allow them to decide whether they returned to church when they attained the age of fourteen.

James had decided to leave when he reached his target age, but Stephen manfully continued to go for the following two years without his brother. By the time he reached fourteen he had become fond of a girl in the Sunday school and stayed on to Bible class with her. The courtship continued and Margery and Stephen would accompany Sam and Maria to church after they were confirmed.

An ambulance’s siren sounded just outside and Sam heard the screech of tyres. A minute later the double door’s to the waiting room flew apart and two ambulance men carrying a stretcher on which lay a huddled form, caromed in.

Sam watched aghast as the men and their load hurried past. He was slipping in his memory back to that day. The blackest day in his memory and however hard he tried he could not keep it out of his memory………..

Sam had come home early from work. He was a teacher at the local primary school and took the P6 class. It was early summer and the evenings stretched out sunny and warm. Maria and he had decided to have a picnic tea that evening up on the Downs. They had packed the car and soon were on their way. Sam helped Maria over a gate and began the climb to the top of the hill. It wasn’t far and soon they had spread out their rug and covered the surface with sandwiches, fruit, cakes and lemonade.

After eating as much as they could, Maria put the remaining food away and she and Sam settled down in each other’s arms to watch the sunset.

In the distance they could see a small aerodrome with gliders rising and falling in the still air. Birds flew by singing their evening chorus as a golden sun sank in the west. Noctilucent clouds decorated the evening sky and columns of ducks flew home in ‘V’ formations.

Venus, the evening star had risen in the darkening sky as Maria suggested to Sam that they make their way home. The next day was another school day and as Maria observed, Sam wasn’t the best at getting up in the morning.

They drove home in silence both enwrapped in their thoughts. The sky went dark purple then black and the Milky Way spread itself overhead.

What a lovely night, thought Sam to himself and turned to observe his wife nodding head. Her eyes were closed and he wondered what she was thinking about.

The other car that crashed into them hadn’t stopped at the junction and caught Sam’s car a ferocious smack on the side. The impact was so great that it tipped Sam’s car over and it rolled down the embankment that bordered the road. Down it went spinning faster and faster. Inside Maria screamed and held on as she was tossed this way and that, striking her head violently on the dashboard and windscreen.

Then suddenly they were sitting still. The car had returned to its four wheels, but Maria and Sam were badly injured.

Sam tried to remember the blur that followed their rescue from the badly damaged car. Sam heard the siren as he slipped in and out of consciousness. He remembered his wife being gently lifted from the wreck. He had no memory of his removal but did come to in the ambulance as it sped to the hospital with its siren shrieking and its bell ringing. He remembered croaking out to the ambulance man to find out how Maria was, but all the man said was, “she’s fine, just take it easy.”

Most of the first few days were a mixture of brief moments of clarity mixed with longer periods of darkness. Sam knew he was bandaged and that he had a cast on his left leg, but no one would give him any information regarding Maria. When he asked the nurses he was told that she was fine and getting better. When he asked to see her he was told that she was recuperating and had to be left alone for a few days longer.

Rev. John Barriston called most days and often he brought communion for Sam and they prayed together. Sam pleaded with John to be able to see Maria but the minister said that they had to follow the instructions of the hospital. Maria was fine, he said and he had given her communion.

One week later, Sam had demanded to see Maria. The doctors had come in and asked how he felt and after Sam assured them that apart from his fracture and muscular aches, he felt fine. Nodding their heads both doctors looked at each other sadly and the older of the two said,

“Now that you are stronger, I am afraid we have to tell you some bad news. Your wife Maria sustained a lot of head injuries due to the accident and sadly is in a coma. We are very hopeful that she will awake soon but, if you would like to talk to her, read a story or play some of her favourite music, it might aid the recovery process.”

Sam could say nothing. He felt frozen, speechless and empty. He struggled to speak.

“But….you all said she was fine. No one said anything ….. about a coma. Why, oh God, why?”

The other doctor stepped forward and placed his hand gently on Sam’s bandaged shoulder.

“You were very weak Mr. Grey. We couldn’t risk possibly losing you both.”

Sam felt the tears coming as he looked about him. Maria couldn’t be hurt. She just couldn’t be.

They had wheeled Sam into the Intensive Care and for a moment he couldn’t see his wife. A large white bandaged shape lay in the bed connected to tubes. A respirator puffed away in the background sounding like a wheezy reptile.

The two doctors had walked up behind Sam; they all stood looking at the sleeping princess.

Day after day, week after week Sam had spoken to, sung to and played music for his comatose wife. Sam had prayed by Maria’s bed, exhorted God to give him back his wife. He would try and be a better husband, he pleaded, a better father, anything but please, please don’t take Maria, God.

Stephen and Margery had contacted James, who was now living in America, letting him know of their mother and father’s accident. James flew home the same day he received the news.

They all stood at the bottom of their mother’s bed and willed the badly injured woman to awake, to get better, to come back to them.

The leaves had been falling from the trees Sam remembered, when the head doctor had visited his wife’s hospital room. The autumn gales battered the hospital and rain splashed against the windows. Stephen, Marjory and James were sitting round the bed.

“We must turn off your wife’s respirator Mr Grey,” said Mr Grade, the head physician. “She is now brain dead and is only being kept alive by the machine.”

Sam had heard somebody come into the room; he had turned and saw it was his minister, John.

“Sam, I have come to be with you when you slip Maria’s moorings and allow her to sail into God’s keeping. She will be at rest.”

Sam had felt the blood rising and had lunged at the clergyman.

“Get back from her. Maria will awake. She will come back to us. God promised me!”

 Stephen and James stood up and went to their father. Marjory began sobbing quietly.

“Dad, Dad,” whispered James. “We have to let Mum go.”

“But…..” began Sam. “She’s still alive. God promised he would give her back to me!”

The men had stood together as the respirator was switched off. Maria seemed to give a couple of breaths then her chest lay still.

“Sam,” said John. “Maria is in God’s care now. Let us pray together.”

Sam had whirled round almost knocking his sons down.

“I renounce God. He lied. I will have nothing more to do with Him!” he screamed.

                                                               *

The funeral and the internment had passed like a bad dream. People had come up to Sam and hugged him or shook his hand, but all he had done was gaze into the distance. Beside himself with grief

In the following days Sam had stayed with Stephen and Marjory. He refused to see John and to attend any church service. For long days he had just sat and brooded. A lost man, totally dejected.

Months had passed, Sam had managed to get a little plot of garden to raise vegetables and grow flowers. His fellow gardeners knew him as a person who said little but who was always willing to help.

Sam shook his head to clear the memories and looked across at his son Stephen who was sitting consoling his wife. Marjory was crying and her husband was whispering comfort to her.

Suddenly the doors swung open and a surgeon walked into the waiting room.

“Mr and Mrs Grey?” he said.

Instantly Stephen and Marjory jumped to their feet.

“Doctor, is there any news on Sylvia?”

Sylvia, thought Sam. His granddaughter. A leggy little girl of seven years. A complete tomboy  who was at home climbing trees, riding her bicycle and generally not behaving as a little girl should. No dolls for her. Football, tennis and dodgeball. Anything that involved excitement and danger.

Sadly, the previous day she had been riding her bike without her helmet. Eager to meet her pals she had ridden out into the road without checking for traffic. A car driven by an old lady had dealt Silvia’s bike a glancing blow and the little girl had been thrown onto the road. Luckily her head had been the last of her to hit the ground, but it had been enough to knock her senseless. The elderly lady who had been the driver of the car had immediately taken charge of the situation; she had sent a man who had run up, to phone for an ambulance. Next she had got a blanket from her car and covering Sylvia up to keep her warm had knelt by the child and although she was unconscious, continuously talked to her, assuring her that she would be alright. The angel of mercy had been a retired nursing sister.

Sylvia, upon the arrival of the ambulance, had been quickly transferred to Bridgeford Hospital. Stephen and Marjory had arrived half an hour later after stopping at Sam’s house to collect him. They had been directed to a small waiting room by the triage nurse and after being served with cups of tea, were asked to wait.

And so they had waited and although for only an hour it seemed like ten.

“You can all come through and see her,” said the doctor. “But, I must warn you she is badly bruised.”

Stephen held Marjory as they entered the ward. The lighting was very subdued, but Sam could see his grand daughter lying on the bed. She looked like a broken doll. Her face was covered with purple bruises and …….oh no! She had been entubed. Her breathing was being done by another mechanical monster.

“Ohh Sylvie!” wailed Marjory falling down on her knees by the girl’s bed.”My darling, mummy and daddy are here………”

Sam felt his knees begin to buckle. It was Maria all over again. The ward. The dimmed lights. The bloody puffing of the respirator. What nightmare was this? He thought. What wicked re-enactment?

Stephen gripped his father’s arm and led him to a chair that was sitting alongside the bed. Sam gratefully collapsed into it. His heart was banging and he could feel large drops of sweat breaking out on his brow.

Not again! He would not lose one other member of his family, he thought fiercely.

“When will she wake doctor?” Marjory asked plaintively. “When will our little girl be alright?”

The doctor hung his head and looked at the floor.

“I am afraid that we cannot answer that question till Sylvia is stronger. She took a hard knock on her head.”

“Oh God, Stephen………” Marjory wailed. “She’s only seven years old!”

Suddenly Sam found himself standing up. He walked over to the bed where his grand daughter lay and gently took her hand. Carefully the old man went down first on one knee then on the two. He lowered his head and recalling the words from his past, he began to pray,

“Oh God, what can I say? I have been a foolish sinner who blamed You for taking the dearest thing in my life. But all you did was to give Maria peace when she was in terrible pain. Oh yes, I prayed for her return to us, but I was blind to her injuries.” Sam was crying now and large tear drops ran down his face.

“Please forgive me and listen to my prayers now. This little girl, our Sylvie is injured, but please, please heal her Lord. Return her healed and well to her family, I beg You.”

Sam felt a little pressure from Sylvia’s hand. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Doctor,” said one of the nurses. “Her traces……….!”

One by one her electronic recordings rose, not to total normality, but in the right direction.

Still holding Sylvia’s hand got to his feet and as he did he noticed as if for the first time that ‘someone’ else was standing by the bed.

Maria stood smiling at Sam at the head of the bed. Her image flickered in rainbow patterns and shimmered. She was nodding her head gently and Sam could feel the love emanating out from her.

“Maria………” said Sam, just as he blacked out.

When Sam opened his eyes he found Stephen, James and Marjory looking down at him. He was lying on a bed next to a sleeping Sylvie, without that tube in her mouth.

“How..is she?” grunted Sam attempting to get up. James restrained his father and gently pushed him back down.

“Oh, Dad,” said Marjory. “What did you do? Just after you took hold of her hand she began to recover.”

“Did any of you see Mar…..your mother?” asked Sam.

“I think you must have been dreaming Dad,” Stephen said with a laugh.”Although I do believe that Mum watches over us all.”

It was a new man that returned to St. Luke’s. Sam was met at the door by John who shook his hand vigorously.

“Sam, you’ve come back to us. I am so glad to see you.”

“If you will have me back John.” Replied Sam bashfully. “I have been stupid and arrogant.”

“Welcome back my friend” said John. “And ….. who is this you have with you?”

“One of the reasons I have returned,” said John looking down at Sylvie. “God gave me back something to live for. The other thing He gave me back waits for me at the gates of Heaven.”