There is a young fella walking past my door lately, and on occasion he gets the jump on me in our race to the restroom, and he walks like the inside of his head is the secret location to that rave you suspect is in your neighborhood, like it is as obvious that he is grooving as it is obvious that he doesn't want you to know.
It is as if, and maybe I am projecting here, good things are happening and he is the type of person who does not believe good things should be happening, or he is the type of person who believes that if good things are happening you should be very quiet about it, in a superstitious sort of way.
I'm tired of feeling like I do not deserve the good as well as the bad, not because I am tired of guilt or reward, but I am just tired of thinking about the passing of time in those terms. Not angry tired. Sleepy tired. Thinking about karma makes me drowsy.
Personality wise, I am still like tofu, my tastes pretty much like my surroundings. Emotionally, though, I am corrugated cardboard, thin and sturdy. I laugh so much quieter than ever before. And my face has returned to the stoniness of its firefighter days. My face is ready to shine its indifference on whatever trauma may come.
We could hear him struggling to cough, then the tight whistle of air, like a faraway storybook train. We watched the hallway and knew he would come to us, panicky and desperate. I stood up and put my arm around his shoulder, more to keep Alex from slapping him on the back, one of those instinctual reactions that marks an unintended mistake. There was so little air, but not enough to carve lines into the granite face of my newfound indifference. When his knees buckled and he fell, Alex ran to the phone, but I caught him, could feel the rapidly beating heart. I said, 'No, no, stand up.' Briefly, I tried to remember where my old EMT kit was, a pair of Magill forceps inside. He stood, and coughed, forcefully this time. He was still holding onto the book he was reading. I breathed in the top of his head. 'You need a haircut.'
There is not much to do when the wind is blowing hard and fierce like that, other than to wait out the storm and, maybe if the lights go out, you can spend that time wondering whether or not this is deserved or random, or predictable like weather.
6 comments:
Adversity has a way of teaching how to discern between what needs to be sweated and what doesn't. Having been 'there' and done 'that', I suppose the indifferent look is the fabled 't-shirt'. It's a handy t-shirt to have, though. I think. 100% cotton. Comfy.
Funny how when it's your own kid facing it, danger always seems more dangerous somehow.
man, does he ever look like you.
i wish i could think of something to say here about your not laughing as loud and your stoney face that doesn't sound trite.
there's all the stuff about how strong you are, about how amazing it is that you're doing this, about how it will always be a little bit hard, but that eventually the good will far outweigh the bad. all of that stuff is true, but ends up sounding trite. but the truth is, i suspect any words will.
that's the thing about adversity, it brings you right into the thick of the moment and there is no way that you can see those things to come. the good that will be.
but you can trust us, your legion of faithful followers - this is an amazing thing you're doing, and the end result will be worth it.
i think i started t drinking a lot more after i had kids; in retrospect drinking was a way of closing the door to the dark place my imagination went to sometimes - a place where bad things might happen to my kids.
it's hard to explain how vulnerable kids make you, vulnerable and exposed to the most intese of feelings . . the best thing to do is brace yourself through it, which is what i suppose you're trying to say, right?
Wishin' I knew you better so I knew who this fella was to you and I wouldn't sound like a newbie ass.
So I'll sit quietly for a bit.
jodie, the guy is just some random guy whose walk elicited a bit of envy. you don't have to feel like a newbie. there are people who have been reading me for years who still have no idea what i am talking about (INCLUDING ME).
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