Four years ago, on Aug. 31, James and I carried Bean through a hospital corridor for major surgery. Surgery to repair his three heart defects. A surgery that would end his five month battle with heart failure. A surgery that would allow him to wake up, experience energy for the first time, drink milk without sweating and turning blue from lack of oxygen, gain weight, and get down to the business of growing and learning. And that is what happened.

But on that day. The day we woke up at the Ronald McDonald House at a Children's Hospital in a town not our own. The day we had to carry our son into the hospital at 5am to be prepped for open heart surgery and hand him over to a surgical team that we had no choice but to trust. The day we paced the halls of the hospital for five hours waiting to hear that surgery was over and he was off bypass. That day was tough.

Tom, over at Narrow Ridge, captures it beautifully in a clip from the documentary he is making about his son, Ian. While I do not know the reason for their hospital visit there are many things I find powerful about this clip. Ian's contentment in his mother's arms as they walk the hospital corridor. The medical personnel that pass, glancing at Ian, another patient in a hospital full of patients. Ian's mom, the way she looks up and sighs as she holds her son tightly and waits for the next step. And the music choice. I find the words both haunting and hopeful.

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