One of our kids was in a serious bicycle crash almost two weeks ago. He spent a week in the hospital. W stayed with him around the clock.
“You make him feel safe,” I told her.
I visited each day.
He was home for a few days but had a setback and is back in the hospital for at least another week. W is by his side.
Once again, I am making a daily trek to the hospital.
W sends me a list of what to bring that day: nail clippers, a travel-size bottle of shampoo from the top of her dresser, Advil.
I usually visit late afternoon and stay until it starts to get dark outside. I run out for whatever the kid wants. It is always sweet tea and something else. Today it was a single glazed donut. I tell him I am going to buy him a Smashburger with cheese and bacon and a Nutter Butter milkshake when he feels better.
W and I sit on the couch in his room.
“What’s new?” I ask.
She gives me the update.
“What’s new with you?” she asks.
I tell her what’s happening at home.
We eat take-out for dinner.
We watch silly videos about Prince beating Jimmy Fallon at ping pong and cats doing silly cat things.
We stare at our phones.
Sometimes I bring the newspaper or a magazine to read.
But mostly we sit without speaking. I might squeeze her hand or rub her back to remind her I am here. That I will always be here, especially in times like these.
I think of our cats at home. The two brothers who silently sit on the pink blanket on top of the washer to watch the birds or on the bed to take a nap or in the window to warm in the sun …
And I remember how lucky I am to have W by my side as life storms by.