8 Quotes by Lindsey O'Connor

[...] sometimes mystery defies what our head knows and we feel God reach down into the ordinariness of nightly ritual and speak to our heart with a whisper.

[..] I sensed it was finally safe to ask the question without seeming like an ingrate. God? Where were you? For 107 days where were you? Where were you in my unconsciousness and where were you in that hospital room when I wanted to feel your presence with fireworks and explosions of emotions and supernatural palpability? Where were you, God? [...] I was there, my child, [...] I was the peace, I was the breath, I was the comfort.

There’s always a mystery there as to why one person is more fortunate than another. All one can do is say I have been given a gift. A new gift of life. And all I can do is use that gift in the best way possible. Not selfishly for myself but for the sake of other people. And . . . I will do it not only because I’ve gotten that life, but for the sake of those who didn’t get that life as well.

You play the hand you’re dealt. You play it without false hope or despair, without comparing other people’s hand, or questioning why you’ve got this hand, you just play it, as best you can, today, and the next day, and the day after that.

For the longest time I was so sick I didn't have the strength or inclination to read, but looking at my books stacked up on the bedside table was comforting, like having old friends sitting in the room with me, friends who didn't require anything of me, friends who brought me great pleasure just with their presence, waiting until I could engage with them again.... bibliophiles know the inanimate pleasure of the friendship with books.

Bonding through caregiving..I don't think I'd ever realized until then that so much affection, so much heart connect, happens when we take care of someone.

For the longest time I was so sick I didn’t have the strength or inclination to read, but looking at my books stacked up on the bedside table was comforting, like having old friends sitting in the room with me, friends who didn’t require anything of me, friends who brought me great pleasure just with their presence, waiting until I could engage with them again... bibliophiles know the inanimate pleasure of the friendship with books.

Bonding through caregiving... I don’t think I’d ever realized until then that so much affection, so much heart connect, happens when we take care of someone.