childhood illness.

This afternoon I sat and watched a hawk fly in place over what must have been its lunch.

Being able to hold yourself back is a superpower.

This week our youngest had a corker of a fever. When I lifted him from his car seat Sunday night my heart sunk. I could feel at first touch the heat he was throwing off. Cold toes and fingers meant it was still rising. And it rose and it rose till I had fretted over half the night away while he burned on.  The fever to his and my relief broke and he slept fitfully while I did not at all. In the morning it was back with a vengeance. It rose and fell with his demeanor. That night was worse.

My fortitude for small childhood illnesses seems to have shrunk to almost nothing. I just don’t have the guts for it anymore. I want it to move on to be over with. Right now. So we can all sleep the sleep of the innocent. But it never does so I have to fight to keep in place. Right there with the child. Not running breathless through my nightmares of what could happen.

Today he woke up with no fever, a toothy smile and a rash. Roseola. So we meet again, old friend. I cancelled plans, grown-up stuff that leaves me feeling like a flakey person but I couldn’t do it to him. I had to stay in place, take my lumps which are likely only in my mind.

 

prompted in a way by this week and these lyrics….

You owe nothing to the past but wasted time
To serve a sentence that was only in your mind

End of the Day, Beck

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