Love, the moment and the energy of that moment, will spread beyond all boundaries. (Corita Kent)
Both the smile and the purple bruises on the side of my face, are real. I fell. Tripped over an air vent and landed on something hard enough to raise a bump the size of an extra appendage. Okay, I’m exaggerating. The bump is no larger than the average oversized walnut. The pain, however, made me think a tank had parked in my kitchen, and I’d been thrown into it.
My husband took me to the emergency room.
I was fortunate. Hematoma with no brain-bleed. I came home to heal. On St. Patrick’s Day—wearing the wrong color. Healing will take time. There are no prescriptions for patience. If there were I would ask for double-strength dosage.
In the meantime, I treasure holding my two-year-old granddaughter during a rare moment when she isn’t experimenting with perpetual motion.
“Precious child Addie, thanks for overlooking bruises and seeing me behind them. We will conquer the imaginative world again after you are rested.”
Okay, maybe I should rest a little, too.
terrypetersen 