Wrap & Shake
There was the day when I had The Chief. I was in bed succumbing to the numbing pull of a reluctant epidural. I had the shakes. Page said "You have the shakes. It is normal." But I shook and shook and felt a little scared. Mom left the room in an anxiety fog (the beeping machines made her nervous). Chup was off buying batteries for the camera, (we're not the type to plan ahead). So Page climbed in bed with me and wrapped her arms around me while I shook. That was all that could be done. And it was enough.
There was Sunday when I visited Stephanie. All wrapped in clean white bandages I talked to her closely. I put my hand on her heart and listened to it beating. Strong. Strong. Strong. Lucy softly cried with the nurses in the corner. Page bounced The Chief in the bustling waiting room. And I restrained myself from climbing in bed with my sister to wrap my arms around her while she shook. But her delicate skin wouldn't allow. So I whispered in her ear the message in my heart. There was more I wanted to do. It didn't feel like enough.
There was yesterday Lucy and I said good bye to Christian. He expressed intense words of love for our sister while wheelchair-bound. He is off to a rehab clinic for physical therapy. All I wanted to do was kiss him on the cheek. "Please let me be able to kiss him." I prayed. When it was time to go, Lucy first kissed him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Then I too kissed his cheek. The hug was from me. The kiss, for Steph.
That was all that I wanted to do.
I hope it was enough.