Breathing and thinking and writing-

After Luci was admitted to the ICU for the second time in two weeks, I ran outside to get some air, to figure out what is going on, to just let myself be. Here are some thoughts:


I know when she needs to cough, needs to burp, needs to turn, when she wants to see something, when she doesn't want to see something, when she needs to sit up, spit up, or sleep. I know when she needs to swallow, wants her paci, when she just wants to snuggle and read books. I know she will cry when I do some very mundane but unfamiliar action, and that she will laugh when I dance, blow my nose, grind the coffee or watch Jimmy Fallon.

I'm paying attention and buying her life's knowledge. I'm spending my time on her and gaining the richest bond in the world. I'm investing my heart, soul and body in this little girl, and the return yields love, trust and wisdom over time.

And at any given moment, this knowledge, this strong bond, the love, trust and wisdom -- they become all that there is. They become bigger than myself or Luci, and that is both a miracle and a terrible epiphany. They guide me and sustain me in the capacities they are meant to, yet they do not need me, do not depend on our continuing physicality. At any given moment, our breaths cease, and these things are all that remain.