The past few weeks have been a struggle. A layer of tension has settled stubbornly on our household like tule fog, disrupting cycles and stirring resentment. It hasn’t helped that we made two trips back to the hospital with g, one for persistent pain and another after about a week for more pain, this time combined with vomiting and fever. The first revealed what we already knew, g needed time to heal. The second revealed more of the same; he was still weak and an intestinal virus got to him.
At some point I came to realize what I should have already known. You can’t rush healing. In fact, it is much more productive to treat it as a respected guest, offer it a seat at the table and welcome it for the duration. And gradually, it did happen. g’s appetite came back and I now take it on good faith that his frame with fill in to it’s usual slender. And better still, his spirit came back. He’s back to crashing cars into walls and transforming into black panthers. And of course, we’re grateful for all of it, even if it drives us crazy.