So Much More(75)

We eat said Italian magnificence in blissful harmony at my dining room table.

Happily ever after.

The end.





Instead, this happened:

I realized I forgot the damn ricotta cheese, because I’m a forgetful loser.

I asked Hope to watch the kids while I ran to the grocery store, instead of taking them with me like a good mom would.

I hurried out to my car and started it with only conquering lasagna on my mind in true self-absorbed fashion, because I’m a selfish bitch.

And then I backed out with a vengeance, forgetting there are more important things in the world than making lasagna.

I heard the crash.

I felt the impact.

And my heart.

Stopped.

Beating.





They say change comes when you least expect it.

That all transformation needs is a catalyst.

I’ll take transformation, but I want a different f*cking catalyst.





I’m mechanically filling out forms though I can’t see the words on the page through the fear blotting my vision and streaming down my face. The words, You’re a horrible monster, repeat over and over taunting me like the soundtrack of a horror movie. I’m arguing with them, praying, trading promises, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let him be okay. I’ll do anything. Anything. Take me instead.

“Daddy,” Kira’s voice is weak with sadness, and it pulls me out of my trance.

Seamus is standing just inside the automatic doors, scanning the waiting room for us.

Rory charges to him from the seat next to me.

I’m scared to look at his face. Whatever emotion he’s wearing will be a variety so raw it will strip me to the bone. And I’ve got no flesh left. I forgot what I said to him on the phone when I called. Kai. Bike. Car. Accident. Hospital. Those are the only words I can recall now.

“Is there any news, Miranda? What are his injuries? What have the doctors said?” The words are shaky with dread, but to the point and protective. He’s laser-focused in thought and mission, in problem-solving mode. His posture is stiff and rigid with determination.

But when I meet his eyes, all the fear I feel is reflected back at me tenfold, so I do the only thing I can do. I lie. To put his heart at ease for a bit, I lie. “We don’t have details yet, but he’s going to be okay, Seamus.”

“You’re sure he’s going to be okay?” he asks, eyes pleading for good news.

I nod, and my stomach turns at the lie.

He releases a wobbly breath. It’s relief, and he sits in the chair next to me. Rory crawls into the chair next to him and takes his hand, and Kira climbs into his lap, and he wraps his arm around her. The three of them cluster into a loving, supportive mass because they know how this whole family thing works. They’ve mastered it.

I’m reminded again that I’ve failed. Kai. Them. Me. You name it. I’ve messed it up. I let them find comfort in each other while I finish the paperwork. When I return it to the nurse’s station, I ask if there’s any news. “They’re prepping him for surgery. A doctor will be out to speak to you shortly.”





Shortly isn’t soon enough when the mortality of my child is in question.

“Lost a lot of blood. Broken femur. Ruptured spleen. Broken ribs. Surgery.” He says more, but those are the words I remember.

I’m pleading again. Please let Kai be okay. I’ll do anything. I’ll change. I’ll be the best mother the world has ever seen if you just let my little boy be okay. Please.

As if he can read my desperate thoughts, Seamus says, “He’s a tough kid, Miranda. He’s going to get through this.” Even though he just heard the same news I did, it’s optimistic Seamus putting positive words into action. Willing it to be true. He won’t even allow himself to consider a different outcome.

I felt pain when my grandmother died. It was crushing pain. My world was forever changed, my guiding force was gone. This pain is different. I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s worse, it’s so much worse. It feels like pain I won’t be able to recover from. Pain that’s slowly squeezing my heart within a fist, and if this all goes bad it will constrict until it ruptures from the pressure, leaving only mutilated pieces to fall away in an act of defeat.

The pain is also the biggest epiphany I’ve ever had. I love my kids. Because only love could create this kind of reaction within me. Not guilt, but love.

I stand only to kneel in front of them. I take Kira’s hand and rub the side of Rory’s calf. “I’m going to find you both something to eat.” When I look at Seamus’s face it’s blank, he’s checked out and pulled inside to deal with this. Focusing all of his energy and thoughts on Kai. “Can I get you anything?”

The question doesn’t register in his eyes, but he shakes his head.





The wait is hell. I never realized what a formidable opponent time could be. It teams up with my thoughts and drives me to the brink of insanity all within the span of a few hours. It’s a constant battle. One minute I have myself convinced Kai is going to be fine. The next minute I’m cursing the universe that the possibility exists that children can be taken before their parents.

By their parent.