I’ve never been a dreamer. I’ve never been one to look far into the future and imagine things like my own wedding, having babies, retirement. Once I had a wedding and had babies, looking to the future didn’t get any better. In fact, it got worse. I’ve written before that while I was pregnant with Charlie, I dreamed of caskets. I never dreamed of first birthdays or graduations. Only very unhappy endings. A side effect of losing a child is that you have a somewhat irrational fear of your living children being taken from you for any number of random reasons. Like dying from the same thing their brother died…
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The Ace Bandage Incident
I got a call from school the other day. Monday, in fact, after I’d been gone all the previous week and NEEDED to be at work for at least 16 hours that day. The nurse started out by saying, “It’s not an emergency” as usual. But then went on to tell me that this was the second time he had been to her office complaining about his knee hurting. Now he was dragging it. I should probably come and take him to the doctor. She put him on the phone and he sounded pitiful. “Mom, I didn’t tell you, but I hurt it on Saturday. It didn’t hurt too bad…
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It was all fine and dandy…
The morning was great. He got up, got dressed, and even brushed his teeth without my having to ask. The excitement and anxiety was getting the best of him so breakfast was a bust. He decided on some yogurt and water. That’s fine. That’s what I would choose, too. He moseyed into school, tall and confident, saying hi to everyone he passed. That’s my little social butterfly (read: class clown) who never meets a stranger, but if he does, he turns them into a friend. With a quick wave goodbye, he was off to start third grade. THIRD GRADE? Stop it! If only I could stop time. Or at least…