We don't talk about those days much anymore. After it happened we used to sit around and reminisce in the misery, if you will, but as time passes we barely bring up those days in conversation.
Its a bright, sunny day out and L. was up early. In fact, I was still dreaming when I heard her frog-in-her-throat voice saying Mommy. We did our normal routine, eat, dress and then out the door. Our twenty minute car ride is pretty much the same each morning; predictability is my specialty these days. We were listening to her music talking and singing to each other and then I had a memory of those days last year. It made me sit up a little straighter but not pay any better attention to my driving. My phone rang and it was her daycare. We were carrying L. down to the CT scanner. I had gotten no less than 5 phone calls from the management and teachers at her school concerned about her. These days are a somewhat sleep deprived blur but I told her that L. may have cancer and the CT will check for any masses which might be the cause of her tremors. I have no recollection of her response to this news. I had to go and take care of my girl.
I looked back at her laughing and singing to the Wheels on the Bus and tears continued. Not a lot and they were not out of sadness but gratitude. I wished I had a glass of water or could do something to stop my slow trickle of tears but I just kept flashing back and forth between these bits of time. I continued to sing with her and tried my best to enjoy this predictably, perfect moment.
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