It’s Not Glitter

 No one warns you about how dried blood flakes and glistens like glitter that you just can’t seem to get off. 

No one tells you how fingerprints and hands slide over the surface paint desperation and fear that refuse to be ignored..

No one tells you how it all smells like metal or makes your stomach turn. 

No one tells you it will eat into the enamel on your vehicle.

No one tells you. I may never tell anyone either because it hurts my heart so much to say out loud. 

Hope and Other Things I Struggle With

This weekend my son took our 70 lb dog, Chief, kayaking. I need to break that down because I'm not sure anyone will get the magnitude otherwise. On September 24, 2023 I thought I had lost my son. I spent hours thinking he was dead and no one would tell me. Even after finding out I had not completely lost him, his future was so uncertain. Maybe he would live, maybe his hand might work, maybe his heart and mind would recover from the awfulness. The tubes and blood and procedures are so intricately and overwhelmingly etched in my brain that I struggle constantly to breathe. 

On Wednesday this week my therapist asked about him and if he was home. I said, "No, he's at work, actually, I'm not sure because he called me randomly earlier and asked about a Kayak. Knowing my son he is probably somewhere procuring one. haha!" Not an hour later I go into Walmart and hear a loud scraping noise. I look up and see my son across the store. He was in public, in a crowded place, walking with a big smile and so calmly towards me. I've watched him in pain, I've grieved heavily watching him heal, I've watched him be absolutely terrified for months, but that day, he was focused on the kayak and fishing and all the last few months of awfulness didn't matter. I'm scared all the time too, that the son I knew would never come back, but I saw him that day, and in that moment my soul smiled.