Broken

It was 8:23 and we were 8 minutes late for the bus. The day had started in chaos, with Isabelle refusing to shower and get ready to go to preschool and Nathan refusing to eat his breakfast. So I was late for the bus, and stressed. Then Gryffin woke up and started screaming at the top of his lungs. I could feel the tension like tight rippling through my body.

I parked Nathan just outside the door in his wheelchair, hit the brake, and started running upstairs to grab Gryffin and bring him out with me to load Nathan on the bus. I took a few steps up the stairs and something told me to look back. I looked out the door and saw Nathan’s wheelchair rolling down the little hill of our front lawn, towards the street. I jumped down and ran towards him.

It all happened in slow motion. I ran with all my might trying to catch him before he fell off the curb, but gravity won and I didn’t make it. Nathan, chair and all, fell off the curb. A little bit of glue and tons of traumeel later, he is back to his smiling self.

His face is broken. My heart is broken. You think you can protect your disabled kid at least from something like this. Turns out you can’t.

Comments

  1. he’s ok–you be ok too!!

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