A Memory on My Pop's Birthday
Thoughts on a Rainy Day

He May Be 30, But...

When I was in my 30s, married, a mother, and a grown-ass woman, I had appendicitis. After spending the day in the ER, I was admitted to the hospital for surgery that same night. Joe, having spent the whole day with me, went home to take care of SonnyeBoy. He called my Mom to tell her what was going on. She and my Pop were in Ocean City at the time, but as soon as she heard I was in the hospital, having surgery, she grabbed Pop and made him drive all the way to the hospital.

Visiting hours were over by the time they arrived, but that did not deter my mother. She and Pop couldn't find the ER entrance, so they waited at the front door until somebody left, then quickly slipped into the hospital. Somehow Mom bullied her way up to the OR and insisted on seeing me.

Meanwhile, I was lying on the gurney, floating on Demerol, when I heard a nurse say, "It's her parents!" And I knew immediately that it was MY parents she was talking about. Sure enough, Mom got in, made sure I was alive, talked to the surgeon, and then, satisfied that I would probably survive until morning, left.

But I told you all that so I could tell you how unlike my mother I am.

In practice.

In spirit, I am exactly like her.

So last night Joe and I were lounging around the living room watching The Thief of Bagdad on TCM when we both got a text and picture from SonnyeBoy. The text read: 

Guess who won't be going to work for awhile?

And here's the picture:


Well, as soon as I saw that, I grabbed Joe and...

No, I didn't. We did call immediately -- got voicemail, left a message -- and text furiously.

And he did call. He hurt his knee in the line of duty. It's in a soft cast until the swelling goes down, then an orthopedist will determine the actual extent of the damage.

He's got plenty of folks making sure he's okay. I'm sending him a care package shortly.

But I still kinda wanna jump in the car.