The blessing of being cherished |
I am writing this from Anchorage, Alaska, where my two youngest daughters and I have come for spring break to visit a friend. I haven't seen him in nine years. But it is the kind of friendship where you pick up where you left off. And whether it has been nine years or nine days, it feels like a favorite sweater that always fits just right. And it is timeless; other styles come and go, but it stays. Classic. A keeper.
I often marvel at the unlikeliness of this friendship. He is the doctor who delivered my three children who came after Grace. Hers was a difficult birth, exacerbated by a bad experience with the obstetrician/gynecologist I had at the time who seemed not to know how or have the confidence to handle it.
Two of my church friends had babies within a few months of me and swore by their doctor. He had a bit of a cult following among the women he served, and I found out why when we met. He was tall, dark, handsome, and possessed the best bedside manner I'd ever encountered.
After being introduced to him when I visited one of the church friends and her baby in the hospital, I decided I wanted........