Today, my son gave himself a slight concussion in gym class. The school called and I jumped into crisis mode and picked him up and took him to the ER to be checked out. He's fine. He'll probably have a headache for a few days.
Me? I'm usually on a pretty even keel. I haven't been one to fall apart or obsessive protective instincts. I can roll with the punches for the most part.
But I told someone about my dead babies on Friday...someone who didn't know. So maybe that's why today seemed...I don't know...more.
We had to drive past the cemetery on the way to the ER. How's that for a fun train of thought to jump on?
And then I used the restroom in the ER...and washed my hands. And now they smell like that soap. That smell takes me back to May 2006.
I could lose them. I know that intellectually. But today the past collided with the present and future in a VERY sensory way that I am not so sure I'm prepared to cope with.
And now he is downstairs explaining to his little brother how he wound up in the hospital today.
This brother, that brother, all the brothers...
I need to go wash my hands now. Time to put the past back where it belongs and find my balance again.
Somebody pass the wine.