Saturday night two weeks ago there was a wind storm in Denver. The wind tore the canopy off of our back porch and scattered the straw we use as mulch off of the garden beds and all over the yard.
That same Saturday morning my two year old son had a seizure that would not ‘self limit’, meaning it wouldn’t stop on it’s own, and we had to call the ambulance. The seizure lasted for 25 minutes before the EMT’s were able to administer a sedative that made it stop. We spent the rest of the day in the emergency room.
Sunday morning as my little boy napped, my husband and I cleared the straw from the backyard; stooped over, raking it up with our fingers and placing it back on the beds, surveying the damage the wind had done to the newly transplanted seedlings. It somehow fit how my heart was feeling- ransacked, wind-torn, fatigued from the storm of living with a disability and a seizure disorder. We’re still not sure what the clean-up means…what needs to be set upright and put back into place in our hearts and our lives?