Last night I got a call that no parent wants to get. Eden, my younger daughter, was in the ER after an incident with her poorly controlled rescue dog. She'd already gotten a bloody nose from being pulled off balance by her dog who lunges at other dogs, people, etc. This time she was knocked down, sustained a concussion and a broken collar bone and a laceration on the back of her head. She lost consciousness briefly. Her friend was calling me to let me know where she was and to tell me that they are recommending surgery because the broken bone could potentially puncture her lung.
It was the middle of the night. The first flight I could get was this afternoon so I'm anxiously waiting to leave the house, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning out the litter box, scrubbing the toilet...you know, to stay busy. Thank goodness for credit cards. I called family to let them know. Her dad and my brother are stepping up to help her financially because she's self employed and who knows when she'll be able to work again. Thank goodness for them. Nancy, who just house sat for me, responded to my midnight text with -'sure, no problem, I'll stay and care for house and dog and cat'. Thank goodness for her friendship. She has two daughters too. She knows.
I'm trying not to cry but I just start up. I hate that I'm so far away. I'm grateful that we can fly again and I'll be there tonight. Our babies, we can't keep them safe, can we? Felix knows something is going on. He's very quiet and staring at me.
I return on Sunday. My objective is to give the effing dog back to the shelter, get my girl set with visits and friends and food and trips to the doc, you know, all the things.
We do anything for them, don't we?
I don't even know what I packed. LA is very hot. I don't care. I just want to get there. To hold her and tell her it's gonna be ok.
In the ambulance I held you in my arms
you were small and limp
wearing a nightgown with light blue flowers
I thought you might die
sirens pitched through country roads
I was making deals
please take me
I can go in her place
I knew then I would do anything
mothers do this
they give all the bread to the children
so the children might live
they stand in front of soldiers with guns
they swim across with the baby on their back
everywhere, mothers are holding out their arms
walking forward into the burning fields
saying, take me so she might live
Sending love to you and Eden. So vulnerable together and so loved.
Oh my darling! I am crying, reading this. I, too, have gotten that call and it was too horrible for me to want to talk or think about even now but...May! You have seen her! She is well and strong and beautiful and fine. Eden will be too. She will. But yes, you have to go and hold her. Of course. Keep us updated and call me if you want. Safe travels, tender mercies. Vaya con Dios y La Madre.
Love from my house yours dear Coyote.
Dear woman, I am thinking of you all.
Oh Beth, yes, yes, you are a mother. My heart clutches for you. By now you are with your girl and I pray all is going better than you even hoped. I do know that your presence there is making things better, brighter, and that poem, it says it all. Wrapping you and your girl in thoughts of love and healing.
Oh, Beth, I am so sorry to hear this. I would love to help. I'm here in Los Angeles and can help! Please email me or give me a call. firstname.lastname@example.org
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