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Dichotomies of the Day

 


Driving to the children's hospital downtown. Traffic is terrible.
My preschooler sings joyfully in the backseat.


Winding up and up through the parking garage trying to find an empty spot. Every car represents someone there for a sick child.
"We are here! We're at the doctor!" my boy shouts excitedly.


Standing in the long line to check in. The mom in front of me is wearing a Make a Wish Foundation backpack.
Grateful to tears that I don't know the steps that led her to it.


Waiting in the waiting room. My son jumping from chair to chair.
Thankful that he can jump as I see many boys around me in wheelchairs that cannot.


Waiting in the patient room. Snack time. My precious boy eats an entire baggie of Pringles.
Relieved that he now has a good appetite and eats well.


X-rays. Then the doctor comes in. She recommends surgery. My heart tugs, pulls, contorts.
Trying to remember the blessing that is this minor surgery for a minor problem.


Driving home again. Tears streaming. More hard. More hard. More hard.
More singing from the backseat. Joy keeps floating to the surface.


Comments

  1. Oh, my. You crafted this piece so well. The details you chose, the emotions you included - no reader is left untouched. Sending good wishes your way.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love your sentence, "My heart tugs, pulls, contorts." It captures your change in emotions. I also think if you had used an and between pulls and contorts, your sentence wouldn't have grabbed me.

    ReplyDelete

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