For the next two hours you would find us in the waiting room. David and I holding each other . . .crying . . . with fear of losing our son. Our hearts were his. I continued praying and sending him the message, Fight, Austin, Fight. While our pastor talked and prayed with us, I prayed, "Lord let it be your will that he makes it through the surgery." I also asked for a sign, " I am putting it in your hands, Lord, but please give me a sign."
I looked down on the arm of the chair. It had four tear drops on it. One tear drop had smeared just a little. I immediately focused on the face that these tear drops had formed; two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. I looked at it in somewhat of a trance. My tears had formed the face of my son. I thought, "this is my sign; as long as I continued to look at this face, I would be able to feel his presence. And the life that remained in him." Yes, the tears did fade away, but I fully believe that it did not happen until the surgery was over . . . and he had made it through . . .