Emergency Room (Not That Kind), 01 December 2012

Today Jay and I were sent to the emergency room.

At least, that's what the hotel calls it.  When Jay and I walked into the lobby last night, just starting to remember what being relaxed and happy felt like, we were jarred to discover that our two-night reservation had only made it into the hotel's computer as a one-night stay...and every room in the place was booked for the following night.  So much for feeling relaxed.  We had our room for last night, at least, and were told to speak with the manager in the morning.

When we went down after breakfast, the manager told us there was one room open--the one they keep off-chart for emergencies (not the medical kind; I suppose like a hole blowing up in the wall or something, a la What's Up Doc).

This would most probably count as a hotel emergency.

The good news is, they aren't charging us for the night and will let us redeem our now-unused online deal voucher anytime during the next five months.  The bad news is, the view from the room is mostly of air ducting and the WiFi cuts out every time it starts raining.

The sound of rain drops pattering on metal ducts is surprisingly charming.

But the other good news is, when the intermittent rain lifts, the sea appears on the horizon beyond the rooftops, and this does happen to be the most darling emergency room I've ever encountered.

Our paid-for room didn't come with books!

In a sense, staying in a room designated for emergencies is rather fitting for us right now.  During this trial, it has felt as if we're in an ongoing state of crisis, waiting for disaster to hit in the form of huge delays or a mistrial or a family member's emotional breakdown or--worst of all--an acquittal.  Thank God that fear is passed, at least.

And like the view from this room, our immediate future looks rather dreary.  More trial, more waiting, more anger, more empty space at holidays and birthdays where my MIL should be sitting.  Even the rain splashing against the hotel's metal ducting is reminiscent of tears.

But also like where we're staying today, if I look around inside the room, or out the window past the ugly roofs to the sea, I find beauty and feel peace.  Our lives don't currently have a gloriously sunny, unimpeded prospect, but there are sweet things to delight in, like my children's faces and my flowerbed's seedlings and Jay's strong embrace.

Today, I'm so glad for the chance to sit still long enough to absorb some beauty around me, and to think on the Everyday sweet things in my life.

Sometimes a visit to the emergency room is just what the doctor ordered.