Recovering Chivalry

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” Winston Churchill accurately defined generosity through this quote. Generosity doesn’t just give goods, but it also provides love, time, and wisdom. It is compassionate and charitable to others. Generosity meets the needs of other people before meeting the needs of itself. All these characteristics portray my modern day knights, dressed only in the finest, most immaculate armor.

I have been blessed with a remarkable family. My parents are loving, honest people who keep the interest of my brother and I at heart. They have always been there for me during whatever was happening at the time. If I performed at a sporting event or if I just needed someone to listen as I vented my feelings, my parents constantly put me before themselves. We share a great relationship, but this bond was tested through a terrifying experience that occurred in my life.

In January I was admitted into the hospital for a personal issue that I had to overcome; my life was on the line. I was spiraling out of control and the only way for me to get better was for a major intervention to happen. The hospital was my last resort for recovery.

The first night in the hospital, my mom gave up her time to be by my side through the entire night. We thought that it wasn’t going to be so bad, staying in an unbelievably new, nice, clean room with an awesome view of downtown Dallas and a DVD player. Unfortunately, we were going to be taken away from our dream room. I didn’t know this at the time, but the room was only a temporary residence. I was to be sent to a unit with other patients dealing with the same problems as me. My parents and I knew absolutely nothing about what was going on. We all became overwhelmingly terrified. I made my parents promise me that at least one of them would be with me every second of my stay.

My parents had to go down to the unit before me to fill out paper work and then I was called down to join in on the information. I remember entering that cold, bare room. The first thing I noticed was my mother’s eyes filled with tears. I didn’t understand what was going on. “What’s wrong”, I hesitatingly asked.

Her response was the final straw to my ultimate breakdown. My parents weren’t going to be able to stay overnight and they could only visit during a couple of designated hours each day. All I could do was crawl up into a ball in my mothers lap and weep like a newborn baby. She comforted me and we cried together. I looked up at my father and he was even crying; this was something I had never witnessed before.

Once I got into the program at the unit, it wasn’t so bad. I was actually doing everything like I was expected and I discovered that I wasn’t nearly as bad off as some of the other patients. Every day my parents were there during visiting hours. This was the highlight of my day. They were not only a source of companionship, but they talked with my about things happening in the unit that I had no one else to talk to.

I can still see the face of my dad crying during some of the visiting hours because he wanted me well and at home so bad. During a group activity, my dad revealed that he finds himself praying mostly for me and my health. This was amazing news because I always questioned whether or not my dad ever prayed. He never went to church with my mom and I so I was just unsure. But I continued to do well for two weeks staying overnight in the hospital and one week on partials, meaning I got to go home at night. As a reward, I was released from the hospital nearly a month after my admission.

Since then my parents and I have experienced several bumps in the road. I have had many issues reoccur from habits previous to my stay in the hospital, but my parents push me through them with love and words of encouragement. There is absolutely no way that I could have survived my stay in the hospital without my parents visiting me every day and keeping my priorities in line. Their love, support and words of wisdom revealed how generous they really are. I know that visiting the hospital every day cut into their time at work and at home. I apologized to them for the inconvenience (and major hospital bills) but they didn’t accept the apology because they thought there was no need for one. All they cared about was that I was happy, healthy and they hoped I never had to retreat back to the hospital ever again.

— Katy Dilday, Texas