I try not to write about work here, but today a coworker’s 21-month old baby died. It was all I could do to not walk out as soon as I heard and come straight home to Mama and 3B. I miss them enough on regular days. A reminder of how quickly things can change makes it almost unbearable.
All of the “what if’s” creep in at times like this. I called immediately, but nobody answered. That’s not unusual. As a matter of fact, I take it as a good sign under normal circumstances: they’re napping, nursing, or out for a walk, I think. But today all manner of horrible “what if’s” flew through my mind, and my practice of telling them both that I love them every time I leave the house because one never knows what the future brings was cold comfort to me, sitting at my desk, listening to the purr of the ringing, unanswered phone.
Of course, when I got home, everyone was fine. 3B had been napping on Mama’s chest, so she couldn’t get up to answer the phone, that’s all. But before then, on the way home, Monopoly, by Shawn Colvin had been playing:
And I thought I could let you go in grace
I’ve gotta think again
Because right now I would be bought
To see your face somewhere
I would sell your sweet soul
Just to touch your crazy black gold hair . . .
I would rather be anywhere
Than here without you
I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me race home a little faster.