Remembering Daniel this August

                August has been the “month of Daniel” since 1977, but this year,  I have thought of it through the words of Charles Dickens: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . . it was the season of light, it was the season of Darkness . . . “ (A Tale of Two Cities).  August that year moved from one extreme to another, at times so quickly.

               That August, 1977, my husband Jim, Daniel and I had survived difficult days, and I would give the power of God and answered prayer much credit.  Daniel was almost at the 28^th week mark, the doctor’s goal during the weeks filled with “the worst of times,” including what should have been a miscarriage at about 11 weeks and a threateningly early arrival in the hospital where I spent a night in labor and delivery around his 21^st week.  Amazingly, he hung on—we all did—until a late Thursday afternoon on August 11, right at 28 weeks.  He weighed in at 3 lbs. 13 ounces.

               I only saw him briefly that night before he was taken to Children’s Hospital since he had life-threatening lung issues.  A weekly Thursday night prayer meeting I often attended lifted him up that Thursday night.  The next day my pediatrician told me, “Last night I wasn’t sure he would make it out of the woods, but today he is doing so well.”  With delight, my brother brought a birthday cake to the hospital, celebrating what felt like the best of times. 

But the celebration was short-lived.  After I got released from the hospital, baby Daniel aspirated just as we arrived to visit him.  There were no good days after this, only crisis-ridden time with him.  He had emergency abdominal surgery complicated by pneumonia as he fought to recover.  The last two days of his life his little body was so swollen and distorted a nurse told us, “I’m so sorry you have to see him like this.”  Meningitis was discovered during the autopsy, the final blow to steal his chance to come home to join our family.   

Today, 40 years later, we will celebrate his life, brief but a tribute to God’s power and love to keep His children through days of danger and the threat of despair.  We will be forever thankful for the powerful comfort of His Holy Spirit, comfort we can now share with others.  Curiously, Daniel died on a Sunday night; about 2 ½ years later, our healthy, full term son David Daniel entered the world before 6 am on a cold Sunday morning in March with spring just around the corner.