Hack saw

Cough

Hack

Cough

Cough, cough

Cough

I’m somehow on a sandy golf course. Hit a couple nice shots, but the next hole is a short pitch, seemingly not even 10 meters. Some sort of Funhouse golf course (Maxi Golf?), sandy gravel all around and a sheer cliff behind me. I peer over and feel a sense of imbalance. I look back to see the rest of my foursome, they are calling me to come towards them.

When I realize that I’ve left one of my clubs behind.

Cough

Cough, cough

Suddenly my consciousness shifts, and I realize that I’m not really golfing

And Elephant is up in the middle of the night

He does this, from time to time. Any bug goes straight to his chest

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and see that J is awake

I’m gonna go rub his back

Do you think you can stay home tomorrow?

Yeah, we have our team health check so I don’t feel good about that

Yeah, me too. I see you.

We’re conscientious teachers, and know it’s not uncommon to feel guilt for being out. We have to give ourselves a pep talk

Family first

We are not the center of the universe

And we remind one another that being out for one day isn’t going to matter in six months,

but being there for our son absolutely will


I sneak into Elephant’s room, hoping that by some chance he’s asleep.

Hi papa

Hey bud

Sorry you’re not well

I really don’t want to miss fun night

Yeah

I see you

Try not to suffer twice, it’s three days away

Our whispers slice the stillness

I place two fingers on his back and apply gentle pressure on either side of his spine. My other hand cradles his neck and scratches his head.

Lie on your stomach

Can I have a tissue?

Yeah

The air is cool and crisp in his room. Somewhat ironically, we’ve had a spell of amazingly pristine air. Shifts in barometric pressure and a breeze goes a long way.

So that helps.

It’s so dark

Tissue

He requests

Sits up, gently blows, and tosses

That went in

Yeah

Nice shot

Now try to let yourself go to sleep. It’s the most important thing you can do for yourself

OK papa

I continue rubbing his back until he coughs less frequently

Try to sleep

Plant a gentle kiss, just above his ear and whisper

Love you bud

Love you too papa

We sit in silence for a couple minutes

And my bare feet pad across the cool floor

Receding into the night

Published by Radutti

Teaching in Ha Noi, screwing things up daily but surviving to write about it. ...everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you. How are you?

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6 Comments

  1. so sorry that it’s been such a season of illness. May it pass, may they sleep soundly and may the clear air remain. So evocative, as always,Darren. Thank you

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  2. Oh my, this is so beautifully tender. The stories (there are a few) that come together here are illustrated as much by what you share as what you leave unsaid. The opening scene interspersed with the coughing offers us an original window into a familiar experience in families.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The italics versus regular print really works to guide us through, and the short lines and generous spacing give you piece, for me, a sense of calm and darkness and thoughtfulness.

    so glad to be reading you this March!

    Liked by 1 person

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