Phone rings a couple of days ago. It's my parents tag teaming. Happy birthday, says my dad. You were a fat baby, my mom tells me again. I'm so proud of you, so glad you made it strong after the accident in VietNam, so glad you're who you are today. In Fort Worth that day, she repeats again saying nothing about her pain at my birth, it was snowing.
Phone rings a couple of days ago. Who is it? Oh No, gasps my wife, and my daughter and I wonder if Amanda finally took her young life this time. No, her shaking head tells us. We wait. Sharon just died. Having her baby. Lily told her she'd be there in the room with her, that'd it be okay, but it wasn't. Threw an embolism. The baby's alive, a boy, on his way to Dallas to an n.i.c.u. The phone drops then the ipod, as two people I love very much slide to the floor.
2 comments:
Glad to see your back to blogging looking forward to reading your thoughts. As I read the post, my mind thought, all creation groans and labors together and how will she will be saved through childbirth.
Jay,
I appreciate your sharing your comforting thoughts. Yes, the groans and labor and ...
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