|Hospital Vozandes del Oriente - Shell, Pastaza, Ecuador|
I fell asleep last night to the sound of rain on the roof, trickling through the gutters, and to the smell of earth made fresh. The air blew across my face from the open window and I was transported back in time. Ecuador has been on my mind a little more recently as our youngest daughter and her husband are there now, visiting the land of her birth.
Digging through old photos I found this aerial shot of the "new" hospital where she was born and where, a few years later, my husband served as administrator. I look at the photo with eyes of love that prickle with tears at the memories engendered. Yet now that it's been eleven years since I've seen this place, my eyes can also see the details that separate this photo from most of my reader's realities. I see a place where so many, many people came for healing. This building holds tales that would break your heart, and tales of triumph and joy. I wonder what you see - a strange landscape, a rusty roof, muddy streets.
One February, Tim came down with a serious case of pneumonia. Our physician decided to admit him so that he could have IV antibiotics. I went home to gather up a few personal items and when I returned Tim was in his room, still working - staff members were in and out discussing things. Not very restful. The next morning I walked into the hospital and there he was, IV pole, robe and slippers, fixing a computer. Dr. Steve agreed that he needed to be out of there. So I had a quick lesson in managing an IV and home we went. This photo was taken when he was well on the mend.
All this from listening to rain in the night. What memories does rain trigger for you?