Mar 07 2006

Healing has Begun

Published by Mark Williams at 12:40 am under General Thoughts, Kids, True Story

If you like sci-fi at all, check out my latest on A Storied Man. It has time travel, alternate history — and the answer to a huge unsolved mystery, all in under 1,000 words.

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For the first time since all this started, I saw my mother-in-law (what is the proper way to hyphenate that, anyway?).

I had Ben with me all day while Shannon hung out with family at the hospital and saw her mom. He and I got both our vehicles inspected. In a refreshing turn against stereotype (or just my ridiculous snap judgment), the stoner looking guy at the Inspections Only location flipped me a quarter to buy Ben a handful cashews from a vending machine. We had watched the lady re-stock the Skittles, M&M’s, Runts, and other goodies, and Ben was itching for something to crunch. When I asked if they had any disposable cups, the man gladly went to the back and brought one out for us. After Ben put his nuts in the cup (ahem), he thanked the man. Then, in an even more unexpected move, the man replied, “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

My car passed its very first rigorous inspection, including emissions analysis, with flying colors. I was surprised, because at 150,000 miles, I figured surely something would fail. Where we lived in Missouri, there was safety inspection only, and in my native state of Arkansas, there was no inspection at all. The rationale was, “Well, nobody really inspects everything on the list, anyway, so let’s do away with it altogether.” Jeepers, folks, at least they made sure the brake lights and turn signals worked. Score another point for my home state.

As we waited for the inspection, I offered Ben a magazine from the waiting area. The title escapes me, but the cover featured a woman with a leashed dog on a green lawn. Ben said he didn’t want that one. When I pointed to one featuring the Bugati Veyron (here and here), he gave an emphatic, “Yes!” I stopped slobbering over cars a long time ago, but that one turns my head, so… that’s. my. boy.

Later, when Ben and I took the minivan for its inspection (I swapped with Shannon at the hospital), I gave the guy two dimes and a nickel to repay the quarter. I also spoke to a man, about 40 years old, who put Ben’s age at about three. Childless, he attributed his close guess to the ample supply of nieces and nephews provided by his six siblings.

Without thinking, I said, “I’ll bet Christmas is interesting for your family.” Or does he celebrate Christmas. Oops.

Atypical of my recent flubs, I just let it ride. I avoided saying something lame like, “Or Kwanzaa, or whatever your family has.”

But, back to my mother-in-law. After both cars passed, Shannon and I met at the in-laws’ house to put Ben down for a nap. She stayed put while I went to see her mom.

There were more machines hooked up to her than I’ve ever seen. She is breathing on her own with supplemental oxygen. There was a problem with fluid in her lungs, but they remedied that and now her blood gases look good. When her husband indicated he was leaving, I started out of the room with him — then stopped short.

I walked over, took her hand, and told her about Ben going into their house without her there. Her face lit up. I told her that Ben misses her, but seems to understand why she’s temporarily unavailable. She said that she will be glad to see him when she gets out. I just hope he doesn’t get confused again when she can’t pick him up for one of her famous bear hugs. He handles situations amazingly well for a boy his age, and it all will come with time.

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