There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.  –Albert Einstein

Creation of Adam by Michael Angelo

From now on, I’m living my life as though everything were a miracle.

My 82 year old mother had cataract surgery today.

With both eyes afflicted, she could barely see.

Her biggest complaint was that she couldn’t read the newspaper. Hopefully after the second eye is done she’ll be able to read again.

My mother was glad the day had finally arrived for the surgery, but sad because in the past my father would have been the one taking her. My mother has had many health issues throughout her life and my father was always at her side for all her surgeries.

I wished my father were still here too. Life was much easier when he was able to calm my mother down before her surgeries.

While I was waited for my mother a man came out of surgery wearing the typical wrap-around pair of dark glasses. He sat down across from me. I got the distinct feeling that he was Greek as well. When his first words in our conversation were about “how wonderful the Greek eye surgeon was,” I knew I’d been right. We struck up a conversation.

One thing in our chat led to another until we got talking about which Greek Orthodox church we attended. I told him the one my family attended and he replied, “That’s a great church. I had a dear friend who went there but, he passed away a few years ago. He was an engineer.”

I immediately got so choked up I couldn’t speak for a moment. After a deep breath I said, “You mean?” – and I said my father’s name.

“Yes, yes,” he replied.

He gave me his name. He and my father had both been long time members of a Greek organization promoting Hellenism and education. After exchanging hugs, he started reminiscing about my father and what a wonderful man he’d been, which of course, was bitter sweet and quite emotional for me.

All the time in the back of my mind I was thinking, “Dad, you’re here. You didn’t let Mom down you’re here!”

By the time my mother came out of her surgery the gentleman’s wife had come to pick him up and they had left, not without sending their love to my mother though.

The first thing my mother said as we got in the car was that she felt the presence of my father while having her operation. While sedated she’d been having a conversation with him. When the recovery room nurse came to wake her the conversation was cut short, which upset her to no end.

“Now, I’ll never know what he was trying to tell me,” my mother lamented.

I felt so bad for her. I turned to look at her while I drove. She looked so small in the passenger seat. She’d shrunk quite a bit in the last few years since my father’s death.

“You know what Mom, it doesn’t matter what he was saying, ” I replied. “The point is, he was here with you today and he wanted us both to know it—and it was a miracle.”

There is only one way to live life and that’s as though everything were a miracle.

We can’t make sense of a miracle. We can only accept it and be grateful.

We rode the rest of the way home in silence, grateful for the simple miracle of “hello.”

Have you received a miracle lately? What happened?

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Photo Credit: Creacion de Adan Wikipedia Images

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