My Saturday

Here I sit in my old t and lounge pants.  Two hours ago I, was to go outside and begin staining the wood in our yard for summer.  It does not appear that will happen today.  I did however finish a book, dump the dehumidifier and feed the cat.  Do those things count?  Oh yes, and began to plan a supper for my husband.  Some of his favorite things.  Does this count as productive for the day?  Does it really matter?

I have purchased a card for my husband but no gift as of yet.  What do you buy the most important person in your life?  How do you convey the feelings that you have inside?  Or do you just give the card and cook supper as planned?  Will they say enough?  How does one feel at lost for words for the one person that has seen it all with you?  And I do not mean it all.

The 1 hour car ride at 2ish am in the morning while in the early stages of labour to the nearest hospital with an NICU.  The OB performing an emergency bedside ultrasound to check on the baby to discover he was breech and I was 5+ cms.  The one that stood beside your bed not saying a word as 12 people came in and out in the next 30 minutes.  An OB, several nurses, NICU nurses, a neonatologist, an anesthesiologist, a social worker etc.  The one that was in complete fear and the only words he could get out was “What is happening what does this mean”.  To which you have to calmly explain with no fear or hint of terror in your voice without shedding a tear.  “It means we are having a baby today.“  The one that held your hand while they cut you open.  The one that leaned in and whispered “We have a son” during that operation.  The one that helped the nurse roll you over in recovery to help change pads as you were hemorrhaging. The one that held the basin while you vomited several hours later from the morphine.  The one that held both of us in his arms as our son took his last breath.  The one that maintains that it was most important that I had a Mother`s Day with our only child and that he is ok.  That although he was already gone he had his Father`s Day too. The one that drove me, 16 months later, to have surgery at the same hospital and had to sit in terror while they wheeled his wife to OR.  Hating every minute of it as it is where we lost our son.  But saying nothing for my sake.   The one who often lays awake most nights but will not tell me as he thinks I have too much to worry about already.

I checked around there are no appropriate gifts.

Father's Day


One response

  1. There are no gifts. And no words. I am thinking of you both and shedding several years in honour of C, his father and you.

    June 21, 2015 at 3:24 pm

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