the fall
Photo by Billy
I knew it was going to happen a second before it happened; then turning I caught a glimpse of my boy William toppling backwards from the high kitchen island. William, reaching into air, careening head first toward the dull gray floor.
At first I thought I could catch him, just dive in like those football gladiators on the screen during thanksgiving meal at my parent’s house—but I couldn’t catch him.
Then during those long silent moments before he hit, that waiting, I became aware of the awful fragility of things, the shoddiness of my vigilance.
And for hours afterward— after we’d called the doctor, after we’d considered and negged a Sunday night trip to the Emergency room, as William murmured in our tired arms, in shock, yes, but otherwise fine fine fine—I felt exceedingly thankful for the undeserved grace that marks most days.
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Wow. That must have been a very scary moment! =( I hope he is doing better. =)
As usual, your writing is filled with these right-on lines. “Shoddiness of my vigilance” and “undeserved grace that marks most days.” Love ‘em.