On Sunday night as we had a tour of the Ronald McDonald House I thought to myself how lovely it was. As we toured the kitchen area and saw volunteers making food for the families I thought to myself "That is so nice of these people to do this for these families with a sick child." Then it hit me like a ton of bricks...we are that family now.
My worst nightmare has come true. During a week that little boys and girls are dreaming of Christmas my son is lying in a hospital bed and crying out in pain as the nurses get him out of bed to go potty or to stand on the floor and take a few steps. While mothers are tucking their children in at night and kissing them on their forehead I am next to my son's hospital bed and running my fingers through his hair to soothe him when he has a bout of pain, while telling myself to remember the feeling of his hair on my fingers as soon he will probably be sporting a bald head.
One week ago today I complained on this very blog about life sometimes being so daily. You know - mundane, simple, even boring at times. The very next day my world changed. I'd give anything to get that boring, mundane, simple life back for my child and family. How I wish I could take those words back...my life was perfect.