The tangy scent of ozone and a whiff of thunder as the sun rises. Summer is coming.
Weeping over God’s both/and-ness
Her lip is swollen like an overfed tick, her gums purple. I don’t let my face betray how bad hers looks. Inside, I’m sobbing. She’s smiling like nothing ever happened.
Please don’t let this be her first dentist visit.
She chokes on cereal at school. I have to bend her over, pound her back as her face gets red and no sound comes out. The soggy square plops onto the tile. She cries, I soothe. I know if I cry, too, someone will soothe me–they understand–but I don’t. I don’t think I’d be able to stop.
I hate how often I let what’s urgent override what’s important.
The doc says she did a number on her mouth but will be fine. She praises her for how wonderfully she pays attention. I feel weirdly proud.