Ive been getting migraines - the kind that make you see things, that make you vomit, that make you unable to do anything but moan and lay in bed and beg for mercy - since I was eight years old. Flashing light triggers them - afternoon sun flicking through the trees is the worst - but sometimes, I can feel one coming though I cant pinpoint why. This afternoon, as I drove up the hill to pick my kids up from school, the subtle wave of familiar nausea began, and my head began to beat from deep inside. Once home, I stoked the wood stove, procured snacks, and allowed shows to be turned on. Im not feeling right. I need to nap. I love you guys. Dont turn the iPad up too loud. I climbed into my fluffy, decadent bed and began to settle in. A few minutes later, the gentle patter of four-year-old feet climbed the stairs and my bedroom door creaked open. Mama? he whispered. Can you open this almond milk for me? Im getting myself some cereal. Hes old enough to get his own cereal now. Hes old enough to sometimes remember when whispering is whats called for. Goodnight, Mama. I love you. And he padded back down, leaving me smiling as I drifted off to - thankfully- deep, healing sleep.
Posted on: Tue, 04 Nov 2014 01:20:19 +0000
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