Oxygen

Tonight as I walked in to the Sun style Tai Chi class that I'm helping with, I heard the familiar click of a portable oxygen tank and couldn't help but smile. You might think that a little inappropriate, but I love that sound, because it reminds me of people and places that were very special to me.

When I was in college, I was having a very difficult time for lots of reasons, but the roommate situation was particularly difficult at one point. A dear, dear family took me under their wing and opened their home to me as a place where I could feel safe and and calm. I even ended up living with them one summer. The father was on oxygen and you always knew when he was home because you could hear the hum of the oxygen machine. That sound soon came to represent the safety and peace that I felt there.

Several years later, my grandmother had to be on oxygen and although I was saddened that she needed it, the sound didn't bother me, but instead brought back wonderful memories.

When I hear the click of a portable oxygen tank, I also think of another dear friend who had to be on oxygen towards the end of her life. When we first met, she wasn't on oxygen, but still had major medical concerns. One of the first things I remember was when she took the time to take me to one of my doctor appointments across town. She was always serving others.

I hope that no one else that I love ever needs to be on oxygen, but at the same time, I love those sounds, how they make me feel, and the memories of loved ones that they bring back.




-- Posted from my iPhone