I don’t know what to say today, except that I felt the need to write. I feel a desire to cry, yet I’m not crying. Sometimes the only place to put my jumbled thoughts and emotions is into the written word.
The morning began with a text from our older son, Michael, who is in college across the country. His text bore a request for us to say prayers for his girlfriend’s parents. They are in the path of Hurricane Irma, in the mandatory evacuation area, yet they cannot leave. Her father’s work requires that he remain at the hospital. So, yes, they are in our prayers, as are so many others. I frankly can’t comprehend how you safely evacuate the Florida Keys or a good part of an entire county…
The next stop was for Blake’s annual checkup. His 18-year-old check up, complete with his signing paperwork, giving consent for my husband and I to obtain medical information, and the pediatrician singing down the hallway, “There’s another adult in the house!” Of course, that was followed by the pediatrician practically begging Blake to try allowing his psychiatrist to increase his medication.
“You’re probably on a sub-therapeutic dose.”
“It won’t help,” Blake replied – an answer I’ve heard over and over.
“You can’t say that unless you try it,” the pediatrician implored.
The pediatrician then excused me from the room, as he always does. When he emerged, he told me how much he enjoys Blake, what an interesting and intelligent kid he is.
“He really is,” I agreed. Then I asked, getting teary-eyed, “Can you please say a prayer for him?”
“We’re going to be saying a lot of prayers,” he answered. “I’ll put in a special one for Blake.”
Keeping us all in my own thoughts and prayers. – Angie