me.

My photo
mommy. wife. teacher. yogini. writer. coffee drinker. aunt. crocheter. reader. dog lover. scattered. methodical. rational. irrational. paranoid. annoyed. lost. found. content. searching. peaceful. i am constantly in search of my story. the one i have never happened. the one i've lived i cannot write.

12 March 2009

chapter 9 1/2.

more than a tab in this story.
but not quite a chapter.
this is more like a flower
pressed between the pages.
so precious to me
i want to keep it forever.
because i want to remember this.
i want charlie to know it.
but most of all
i don't want bill to forget this part of our story.

bill went through more than i did
in the seven days we spent in iowa city
and beyond.

when we arrived at the U
he was x-rayed
and examined
and found to be fit to return to work
if you will.

he was quite solemn
and incredibly strong
and beyond supportive
caring
attentive
patient
loving
doting
saintly.

he never let me know...

it wasn't until at least a week after the fact that any of what follows was ever revealed to me...

after i was wheeled back into the trauma surgery
the first surgery
my husband found
my sweet
burly
stubborn
irish
man
found a quiet
lonesome
stiff cushion
on a narrow bench
next to the west elevators

and cried.

i know now that the guilt he experienced in those days following the accident was all-consuming
and that he hid it behind a layer of optimism for me
his wife
who was in a significant amount of pain
and carrying our daughter.
but on that day
in that quiet corner
he sat by himself
and prayed
and cried.

two days later
in a similar scene
he waited for me
again
the guilt still all-consuming.
it was hard for him to look at my parents.
he was certain they blamed him.
hard to read their quiet natures.
we are not talkers, the people from which i come.
we process quietly and in prayer
and wait.
and so it was
that on wednesday
march 26th, 2008
my husband found a quiet corner
again
and cried
and prayed.

it was my mom who found him first.
who held him
and cried with him
and told him...

mom: it's okay. it wasn't your fault. this is not your fault. it was just an accident.

it was shortly after my surgery
as i fought through the pain
and waited for the morphine that my dad turned to bill
tears in his own eyes and said...

daddy: it's nobody's fault. these things just happen. it was just an accident.

we look for people
for conditions
for higher powers
to blame
and when the blame doesn't fit anywhere else
we blame ourselves.

but.

it was just an accident.

sweet man of mine
i've said it once
i've said it a hundred times
this
all of it
none of it
is your fault.
if it weren't for you
i wouldn't be here
i wouldn't be walking
i wouldn't be sharing these moments with you
and charlie
in our home.
if it weren't for you
my heart would be broken
much more than a leg ever can be.
you
saved
me
in more ways
than one.

this was just an accident.
so was charlie.
some accidents
are blessings
dressed up.

i love you.
forever
and
always.

No comments:

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...