Wednesday, January 13, 2016


We were 12 days into the new year when it happened.

Wrestling was supposed to be a great way for Gavin to stay active in the winter months. It was supposed to be fun, friendly competition. It was supposed to be low maintenance.

We were 12 days into 2016 and have an emergency department visit and a broken bone. Wrestling is designed to test one's will. It has taught my boys to know what they are capable of accomplishing. Accomplishing right-handed eating and an inability to remove one's own socks wasn't really what I had in mind.

We were 12 days in and our deductible is nearly met. But Gavin has an interesting story to tell and undoubtedly another battle scar. Luckily, the sixth-grade class is learning about medical scans... MRIs, CT Scans, X-Rays... so he also has extra credit.

We were 12 days into the new year when the boy showed us that he still needs us. Whether he would like to admit it or not, he needs us. I hate to see him in pain; I want him to be happy and confidant... although I would rather have avoided this situation, having him need me just a little bit more than he did yesterday is like a gift. A gift reminding me that no matter how big he gets, he's always my boy. He's still a child even when he's nearly at eye-level with me.

Twelve days into the new year and my family has become a little bit gentler with one another. Gavin hugged his little brother for bringing his schoolwork home. (I checked, he wasn't feverish.) Empathy and kindness are abundant. Loving gestures and silly jokes are commonplace. Helping hands abound.

We were 12 days into twenty-sixteen when my boy grew up a little bit more and a little bit less all at the same time, proving that sometimes when things break they heal at the very same time.

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