I snuck into Spencer's room this morning and using only the glow of a night light, stealthily gathered his clothes and toothbrush then scooped him up in my arms and tiptoed out so as not to wake his little sister, still snoozing in the other bed. I've hurried through this routine once or twice a week since school started, encouraging him to eat his oatmeal quickly so that we can be first in line when the lab opens at the hospital. A blood draw in Logan is a much easier trip than a clinic visit in Salt Lake City, but it still requires a drive through the dawn's early light.
By the time we reached the hospital Spencer was wide awake and full of energy. We stepped out of the car and he grabbed my hand, pulling me along after him. "Hurry, Mom! Come on!" I picked up my pace and we ran together up the sidewalk toward the Emergency Entrance.
"Oh!" I said, and slowed to a walk as I suddenly realized the date. One year ago today, Matt and I walked this same sidewalk as we carried our very sick little boy into the emergency room. It was 9:30 at night, but the darkness of that night didn't go away with the rising of the sun the next day.
Thinking of that moment and looking over at him this morning, tugging my arm, with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, I looked toward the beautiful sunrise now spilling over the mountains and lighting up our valley, and I was filled with joy!
Where Things Get Out of Hand
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