The voice mail came in while we were swimming. It was Saturday, the afternoon before Noah’s sleepaway camp ended.
Infirmary. 100.7 fever.
“Do you want to get him tonight or have us keep him…here until pickup tomorrow?” the nurse asked. Easy choice. We zoomed home from the local pool so I could drive the hour west to the mountains. The trip stretched like taffy because of a homesick letter that had arrived the day before. Noah’s other three letters had been happy, but nothing about “I cried myself… >> Read More
I’m holding my breath for 11 more days.
My 9-year-old, Noah, left yesterday for 12 days of sleepaway camp.
This morning the cat didn’t get fed until 7. Noah’s 6-year-old brother, Sam,…was the first one up and put on music to stave off the quiet. I found myself, after the breakfast dishes were done, listening to the washing machine on spin. It’s going to be a long two weeks. There is less drama around the house without Noah, but I notice everything he has left behind,… >> Read More