Spent most of the day in hospital visiting Elsbeth. Reverend Dave's get-in-free-card appeared to still be working its effect from yesterday, or else I looked so mournful that they took pity on me and let me stay the whole day.
Elsbeth was completely transformed, almost miraculously one might say. She was rosy cheeked and full of her usual humour. There was a constant stream of visitors, mostly from her church, and the phrase "Praise God" was heard a lot. Even the nurses were a little bemused at Elsbeth's quick recovery, given that she was at death's door yesterday.
I don't care if it was miraculous or some wonder drug in the intravenous or Elsbeth's iron constitution - I'm just happy to have her back. I couldn't face another loss.
Reverend Dave (or Rev as the young people call him) sat with me a while after the visitors left, and we chatted to Elsbeth and each other. He must be in his mid thirties, a very hip man of God, full of compassion and wisdom beyond his years. I asked him if he thought that Elsbeth's recovery was because of his prayer. He shrugged and replied, "Does it matter? Whatever happens I firmly believe that my Father knows what he is doing. I'm happy Elsbeth is still with us, but for us death is not a bad thing, its the beginning of great things, so either way it would have been ok."
It struck me that grief is quite a selfish thing really. If Joe was indeed in a better place then I should be happy for him, not miserable because I no longer have him around.
I asked Elsbeth if she minded dying. She looked at me for a long time before replying: "No, of course not. But I think I would miss you."
I almost burst into tears.
