Thursday, March 12, 2009
creature from another world
I have this child, you see, who surely cannot be mine. But of course he must be. He was born right at home in my bed and has never left my side for a moment.
But he is such a force, such a creature from another world, that I wonder and amaze that he came from any part of me. He is walking fireworks, a whirling dervish, a constant challenge and unknown. He is unpredictable and exotically beautiful. He is ever the surprise.
He had major retinal surgeries in October (frisbee in the eye). He broke his arm over Christmas break (overshooting a ski jump in a move known as a flying rodeo). I was walking down main street with my father who was visiting for the holidays and my son called me, asking if I could come and pick him up at the base of the slopes instead of taking the bus. He is eternally lazy, and I scolded him that he knew he was to take the bus. After putting the phone down, it rang again almost immediately... This is the ski patrol, ma'am. Maybe it would be better if your son didn't take the bus home. His arm looks like its broken. He didn't even cry. Didn't even tell me. When I picked him up from the ski patrol clinic, the patroller said he was one tough dude... he wanted to ski down to the bottom. Good thing his binding had broken right off his ski during the fall. No skiing for him.
Last week there we were again, in his doctor's office. He had performed a somersault off of his top bunk while helping me change the sheets and landed badly. Just as I was saying No! Don't do that! and he was saying Mom, you've gotta see this!
No cast this time. Only crutches, which he has already relinquished by training and exercising diligently to get better.
My only comfort is that my son truly is talented, and as the ski patroller said, he saw him crash and knew that Dana knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he had overshot the jump and pulled his skis up right before impact. Cool as a cucumber. He explained that he knew what was happening, and that was the only way to avoid breaking his ankles.
I suppose that should make me feel better...