Beyond the rain drops running down the window of the hospital waiting area I sit within, several stories below people go on about their day as I might have on any other day.
In a strip mall across a road diners eat lunch and shop. I am reminded of being lost in a routine I once knew and struggle to imagine ones I'll never know. Out there I often feel asleep. Here, at least for the moment, I am as awake as I've ever been.
Down the hall several patient monitors beep. Behind those doors are people I've never met who have lived lives I'll never know. "More stories exist in the living than have ever been written in published books," I think to myself as I try to comprehend what is being or has been lost -- but that's not really what living is about, is it?
I am humbled by this moment, as I've been by any visit to a hospital to see someone. The world is so much deeper, richer, and bigger than statistics often make it out to be, if only it were possible to really comprehend.