Friday, September 4, 2009

Thanking who's up there

I didn't even notice until I just sat down to type this, but my fingernails have all been chewed down to the pink flesh, raw. It has been that type of day, where I catch myself in worry, throw myself into the motions of some busy work and then later stop and take stock of what it all means.
Last night, a call came in for Rich because a toddler up the North Canol Highway had wandered off of the campsite. His help was needed as soon as possible for as long as it took to find the little baby boy.
The North Canol isn't a highway but a marked dirt road, and between here and the road's end is no man's land. It is incredibly remote, just sparsely dotted with hunters and campers this time of year. It gets near freezing here at night now, and I don't have to tell you about the prevalence of hungry wildlife about these parts. It was all I could do last night to finally fall asleep with Skylar to my right (lucky lady got to sleep in Rich's spot).
Today was a long day. The search continued, more Mounties were flown in. The people of this town really banded together to drive across the river and search for the baby. The people who stayed back made food for the volunteers and everybody was saying prayers or asking whatever power they believe in, to please help the little boy be found. It is very emotional, after all this time in Ross River, to see a display of such camaraderie and unity amongst the residents.
Abby was a delightful little lady who got squeezed and hugged and kissed a million times over today as I just couldn't thank my lucky stars enough that she is happy and healthy and safe here in my arms. I also threw myself into baking muffins, bread and a pie, a chicken and potato dinner for all the Mounties in town, and some fajitas for the selfless elder who runs the ferry (he was up all last night and all day shuttling people). It was all I could to do keep from going crazy picturing a lost, lonely little face all alone in a terrifying wilderness. As time went on, I became nearly frantic thinking of the dimming possibility light still shone in his little eyes.
After I dropped off dessert at the detachment, my poor, tired husband had a renewed vigour to his demeanor and excitedly told me the baby had been found alive.
I am not embarrassed to say I wept the whole walk home and was especially sentimental and weepy as I bathed my darling daughter and nursed her into the comforts of sleep, safe and sound.
I am so thankful that the boy's mother doesn't have to panic and worry about when the nightmare will be over, surely playing out every worst case scenario as desperation rose.
I am reminded of how little Abby's light could easily flicker and be extinguished, and how out of control her fragile life really is. I am renewed in my appreciation for the love I am surrounded with in my home and today. Today I believef that with a lot of prayer, adulation, good vibes and wishes, these things can turn out well, against all the odds.

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