Saturday, May 23, 2009

I called the lovely pediatrician yesterday because Gus had a croup-like cough. I knew the drill but wanted to be reminded of when to actually worry. She mentioned the usual home treatment--steamy bathroom, cold night air--and suggested that since we live in a third floor apartment, we could simply go to a window.

Listen sister, I thought, but did not say, I am not taking anything I want to hold onto anywhere near a window.

*

I have not shaken off the air conditioner drop. When my first child died, I comforted myself with fantasies that time had split in half, and that in some alternate track, he was lived and grew. Somehow I am doing that again: in an alternate track, the air conditioner killed someone, or is about to. That's what I somehow cannot get past. I feel like it's not over, as though in this world it didn't hit anyone, but in various other worlds, it has, and it will.

3 comments:

susanstinson said...

That sounds really hard. I'm so sorry that you're having to grapple with that.

Makes me want to try to think of something to maybe do about it -- which is not always helpful, I know, particularly in these public halls -- but one thing that comes to mind is a story-teller's response -- to tell the story of one or more of those other worlds. (Even though it'd be the last thing a person might want to write about and not at all what someone expected or wanted to be doing.) To maybe move the worlds that way?

Hope Gus (and all, and everything)feels better soon.

Monique said...

Eek! It's difficult when you've been touched by tragedy, it kind of makes you feel like it's going to happen all over again at anytime (at least it does for me - I used to be a 'why worry' type of gal but no more, now I excel at it).

I hope Gus feels better soon.

monica wing said...

I've had near-miss car events that led to something sort of similar.

There's a lurching feeling of guilt and alarm, that recurs in waves like being sick.
Or like the return of the memory of very bad news, that one has managed to forget about for just a few minutes.

It's as if I were twice as guilty *because* no-one was harmed, because, having been careless, "I don't deserve that kind of luck!"

Hope it goes away. The fear of dropping an air conditioner is all too rational.