The last few days, I have just had this uneasiness in my stomach. I thought maybe it was back-to-school-jitters. But I've met the kids, their families, and even attempted to teach math. So, nope, it's not that. But tonight, as I watch Rich get ready to bow hunt again (with lots of help from family and friends), I am realizing that the anxiety I'm feeling is in preparation for the "big day."
Just hours before the accident, Ness, Shannon and I were picking apples. Bags, and bags of apples that were never made into pies. Never dunked in caramel. That morning I had dropped Ness off at Megan's so I could pick out light fixtures for crying out loud. Sometimes I look back at the girl that was walking through that day and think about how stupid she was. She had no idea what was coming. How could she Not Know? Couldn't she sense that something Bad was about to happen? Why did she give a shit about staying on budget for the lighting? Why was she so ticked that all of the Honey Crisp apples were gone? Will that girl be able to go apple picking this year without have a complete mental break-down?
When I really think about That Night, I can't believe any of us survived. Looking back, I realize how little I really understood. I remember feeling so frustrated with my mom in the early days when she mentioned the fact that our house would need modifications. "Why?" I thought. The hospital will give him new legs and he will be walking before he leaves. I know it." How little I really did know. Was I protecting myself so that I could make it through the days and nights ahead - be the wife I needed to be and the mom I needed to be? Make the decisions I needed to make? Probably. But, I'm not sure the denial makes it any easier now.
Now the tears come easily. 6 months ago - I couldn't make myself cry if I wanted to. I was surviving. Now, I am coping. We all are coping. I see it in Rich's eyes. I even see it in Annessa's eyes at times when she remembers that Daddy can't walk down by the creek with her or that Daddy can't throw her in the air at the swimming pool. Now she has to settle for mom's weak attempts.
Still, I watched the two of them dance today and my heart was happy. It was a wobbly looking little dance, but it was my daughter dancing with the dad she almost lost.
I listen to her ask questions like, "Daddy, why can't boys be married to two people? I want you to be married to Mama and to me."
"We can't get married honey - someday you will find a boy you love and you'll marry him. Maybe in college like me and your mom. But I'll be at your wedding to walk you down the aisle."
Yep. You will. Thank God you will be there.
Just hours before the accident, Ness, Shannon and I were picking apples. Bags, and bags of apples that were never made into pies. Never dunked in caramel. That morning I had dropped Ness off at Megan's so I could pick out light fixtures for crying out loud. Sometimes I look back at the girl that was walking through that day and think about how stupid she was. She had no idea what was coming. How could she Not Know? Couldn't she sense that something Bad was about to happen? Why did she give a shit about staying on budget for the lighting? Why was she so ticked that all of the Honey Crisp apples were gone? Will that girl be able to go apple picking this year without have a complete mental break-down?
When I really think about That Night, I can't believe any of us survived. Looking back, I realize how little I really understood. I remember feeling so frustrated with my mom in the early days when she mentioned the fact that our house would need modifications. "Why?" I thought. The hospital will give him new legs and he will be walking before he leaves. I know it." How little I really did know. Was I protecting myself so that I could make it through the days and nights ahead - be the wife I needed to be and the mom I needed to be? Make the decisions I needed to make? Probably. But, I'm not sure the denial makes it any easier now.
Now the tears come easily. 6 months ago - I couldn't make myself cry if I wanted to. I was surviving. Now, I am coping. We all are coping. I see it in Rich's eyes. I even see it in Annessa's eyes at times when she remembers that Daddy can't walk down by the creek with her or that Daddy can't throw her in the air at the swimming pool. Now she has to settle for mom's weak attempts.
Still, I watched the two of them dance today and my heart was happy. It was a wobbly looking little dance, but it was my daughter dancing with the dad she almost lost.
I listen to her ask questions like, "Daddy, why can't boys be married to two people? I want you to be married to Mama and to me."
"We can't get married honey - someday you will find a boy you love and you'll marry him. Maybe in college like me and your mom. But I'll be at your wedding to walk you down the aisle."
Yep. You will. Thank God you will be there.
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