Thursday, March 10, 2011

Don't Poke the Bear

I made my son sit in the garage with the dogs today. 

For 10 minutes.

In the dark.

Don't worry, it was the one almost in double digits, not the two year old.

He was driving me crazy and enjoying it too much.

He was poking the wrong bear.

It's been a long day in a longer week in an even longer month and quite possibly the longest year of my life. 

I'm displacing my emotions today, I am aware of that.

Trying not to think about the thing that I keep thinking about.

It's been a month.

It's been a hell of a month.

And I miss my Dad.  I still haven't really had time to process any of what has happened.  I've been too busy.

Life is going on, regardless of whether I particularly care at any given time. 

The circle of life marches forward without warning.

It's better that way for us all though.  The distractions.

Without them, I'd be over thinking things even more than I already do.  Than I am capable of doing now.

Fortunately for me, it is hard to focus on much else when you are sitting in the emergency room with a bleeding child, or staying up all night watching another one breathing, or waiting for the inevitable to start with the one who fights it, or telling yet another that this is the last time he will have to endure this particular pain, knowing that I don't know that at all. 

There is a reason I have them.

Without them, I would have thought about what today is.

But I didn't have much time for that.

I was too busy putting my nine year old in a timeout.

He's learned, hopefully, not to poke this bear. 

At least not today.

1 comment:

  1. Forgive me, Kelly. I was so caught up in the fact that it had been the same amount of time since Benedikt was born that I forgot. You are still in our thoughts and prayers.


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