Facing Fears
Dedicated to Steven Mitchem
Dedicated to Steven Mitchem
Beat Spicoli rushed through the door of his office without a backward glance. The telephone call had unnerved him, spurring him into immediate action. He didn’t like calling attention to himself and he only hoped he could come up with a reasonable excuse to give his co-workers for the manner in which he departed, but that would come later.
Opening the door to his white Grand Am, Beat fastened the seatbelt with his left hand as his right started the ignition. He couldn’t get on the road soon enough but, of course, he had to pause to check for oncoming traffic before pulling away from the office parking lot.
“Let her be OK, God. Please, let her be OK!” he pleaded as he drove towards the hospital. His only child, Dana, had gone into labor and it seemed the labor had advanced enough that it couldn’t be postponed until her husband arrived from Korea the following week.
“I hope the baby makes it but, God, Dana just has to survive. She’s my baby.” Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and he blinked, trying to hold them back as he remembered losing his wife during childbirth twenty-five years before.
Though it seemed like hours, he was pulling into the parking lot within twenty minutes. After what seemed like another hour he, finally, got in to see her after being scrubbed and dressed in hospital garb.
“Dana, I’m here,” he said as he entered the delivery room. He noticed the IV was hooked up and she was sweating profusely, wincing in pain and clenching her teeth at the same time, and his heart trembled with fear.
“I’m glad you’re here, Dad,” she replied, before crying out in pain.
“Come on, Doc! Isn’t there something you can do to help her?” Beat regarded the doctor while sneaking anxious, sideway glances at his daughter.
“This came on too fast. There was no time to stop the labor. At least, she is only two weeks early. There is every reason to believe the baby will be fine.” “How far along is the labor? Will a Caesarean be performed?”
“Sir, the truth is that your daughter is doing fine. All deliveries are painful, I assure you but, unless complications arise, your daughter has chosen to give birth naturally. Her water has already broken so it’s only a matter of time now.”
“Dana, are you sure about this?”
“Yeah,” she said while panting. Then she gasped and Beat was at her side in an instant.
“What is it, Dana?”
“It’s just a painful contraction. There’s too much pressure on my lower back.” She gasped again.
Beat moved around to massage her lower back, placing his hand firmly against it to offer support during the worst of the contractions. Then, after three long hours, the words he longed, yet feared, to hear were spoken: “Doc, it’s time! It’s time! The baby’s coming,” she said as she clenched her father’s hand.
“OK, then let’s get to it,” replied the doctor, with a smile, as she prepared to deliver the baby.
Beat alternated between praying, and pleading with God, making promises on how he would become a better person, if only God spared Dana’s life. Ever since she married, though he had wanted grandchildren, he always feared the time when she would tell him she was expecting a baby.
However, the time came and, like everyone else, he got caught up in the preparations. The enthusiasm was contagious but, in the back of his mind, he was re-living another time in his life and, until he knew the child was born healthy; that his daughter was doing fine, his heart would not be settled.
Beat was so caught up in his memories and thoughts that he didn’t really grasp what was going on, until he heard the doctor. “You’re doing great, Dana. I see the head. Another push or two and you’ll have your baby.”
Beat braced himself - expecting the worst while hoping for the best. His beloved wife had been doing great, too, and only had another push or two...
He closed his eyes and offered up one more prayer before he heard the exclamation: “Dana, you have a son!”
Beat’s heart bowed in thanksgiving as he watched the doctor hand his grandson to an attending nurse, who cleaned him up and wrapped him in a blue blanket before passing him to his mother.
“Dad, look! I am looking into the eyes of my son. He is not going to grow up without me, wondering who his mother is.” Her eyes filled with tears as she cradled her son close to her heart. “He has blue eyes, Dad, and such dark hair. He is going to be a heart-breaker indeed.” She smiled as the tears streamed from her eyes.
“Well, between the two of you, my heart has already broken. I’m so proud of you! Let me take a few photos to preserve this moment forever.”
Twelve months later, Beat sits on his patio watching the sunset, drinking a cup of coffee, as Tyler sits at his feet. Slowly, Tyler turns towards his grandpa, reaches up to place his hands on his knees, and proceeds to stand to his feet.
Tyler’s eight-toothed smile melts Beat’s heart, yet again, and a proud Grandpa scoops his grandson into his arms. “Let’s go for a walk along the beach. It was Grandma’s favorite place in the world, right here,” he revealed while pointing to the north. “She would have loved the woman your mama turned out to be and I’m sure she would have swallowed you up. I’ll teach you as much as I can about Grandma as you grow older. She will live forever in my heart.”
Beat smiled and looked at his grandson who was curled into his embrace, sound asleep. He smiled as he looked out at the horizon, regarding the sunset for a few minutes, before heading back towards the house.
“Thank you, God. I’ve found peace again and it all started in the delivery room with Dana a year ago. I can’t repay You for the joy, understanding, and peace that has come into my life since, but I’ll always be grateful. I shall never forget.”
Tyler moved and settled even further into Grandpa’s embrace and, as usual, it wasn’t a strange thing to witness tears seeping from the corners of Beat’s eyes.
By Norma Budden
Copyright December 11, 2006
