You'll Live

"You'll live."

I say it all the time.

We're pretty laid back parents. At least we used to be.
A bump on the head?
Here's a kiss.
An owie?
Here's a ninja turtle bandaid. All better.
Stubbed your toe?
You'll live.

And then along came Cancer.
Bumps on heads were major.
Owies? Beyond major.
Toe stubbing? Could be life-threatening.

You'll live.

The words catch in my throat now.

I want to bite them back, I want to pull them out of the air where they hang, in big purple bubble letters, waiting for a child to respond....what if I don't?

You'll live.

Am I the same parent who walked into the Emergency Room on June 9, 2012? No, I am most certainly not. That bump on Solly's leg that I noticed in the bath the other day? I'm sure he just banged into the playground equipment. I'm sure of that. I keep telling myself that I'm sure. 

And yet that bump keeps me up at night...tumor?

I want so desperately to give my kids a world of safety and security, in which bumps are just bumps. So I run my fingers gently over the bump, waiting for it to go away...counting the minutes until it does or until I feel not-quite-so-crazy taking my kid to the doctor to have him tell me that it's just a bruise. A bump. Or maybe by the time I've made the appointment it will have faded into nothing. Does this hurt? I ask....

Sammy was so brave.
You want to know why he was brave? Because we told him over and over again that he was. We tried not to lie. I never said "It's going to be fine."

But I'm sure I said, "you'll live."

And that was a lie.

May 2008

February 2008

December 2009 -- he LOVED to lick the bowl. Raw eggs? You'll live.