It started this morning, and I can’t seem to stop them from coming. I keep remembering that moment, when the bike was coming and the look on his face, and the sound of him hitting the door. I keep remembering the blood.
Everyone keeps telling me how strong I must be, and the solicitous “How are you doing?” is the second thing everyone says (the first being “How is Sammy doing?”). And I always answer that I’m okay, I’m fine, the hardest part was the day after when he couldn’t eat or drink. But he’s doing so much better now, he can eat almost everything, he still needs a straw to drink from, but that’s nothing.
It’s almost as if now that things are mostly okay, now that the real danger and adrenaline is over, now, I’m starting to panic. Not panic. I’m not losing it, it’s more like I’ve got that moment, the two minutes or so of the actual accident on auto-replay, and unless my mind is actively engaged in something else, that’s what I’m thinking about.
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