It was a very long day. I got home late from the hospital and as I got ready for bed I heard my Mom's voice in my head "Got a blog for tonight?" No. No I don't I thought. Then I stared at the little black lamb, a Steiff stuffed animal that has sat on my dresser since I was about eight years old. The lamb went away to college with me and has been my silent sentry, watching over me from the watch tower of my dresser. I remember the day my Dad bought it for me. I don't really remember him well (his work took him away a lot), I was eleven when he died. But I remember how carefully he choose that lamb from the glass case in a shop in Floral Park. The doctors told me my Mom's breathing is even worse today. She has been on oxygen for more than twenty four hours, but her breathing is shallow and labored. It scares me to watch her struggle. Tonight I think my Dad is watching over us both.
Friday, February 6, 2009
THE LITTLE LAMB
It was a very long day. I got home late from the hospital and as I got ready for bed I heard my Mom's voice in my head "Got a blog for tonight?" No. No I don't I thought. Then I stared at the little black lamb, a Steiff stuffed animal that has sat on my dresser since I was about eight years old. The lamb went away to college with me and has been my silent sentry, watching over me from the watch tower of my dresser. I remember the day my Dad bought it for me. I don't really remember him well (his work took him away a lot), I was eleven when he died. But I remember how carefully he choose that lamb from the glass case in a shop in Floral Park. The doctors told me my Mom's breathing is even worse today. She has been on oxygen for more than twenty four hours, but her breathing is shallow and labored. It scares me to watch her struggle. Tonight I think my Dad is watching over us both.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment