After bringing Jude home from the hospital, I had a panic attack. For me, there is no worse feeling than watching one of my children suffer. It is a desperately helpless feeling. I was so scared. What if he died? What if he faints again? I have no control! I calmed myself by listening to poetry. And then I wrote a poem. This poem may seem morbid to you but I was so soothed in the writing of it. This poem reminds me that even in the wake of terrible things, there are little tasks that sometimes tether us to sanity and help us go on.

Filling the Quiet

And after the cacophony there descended a holy quiet. Fain would I desecrate it with words-- I did the daily, ordinary tasks of making bed and sweeping floor. These are the things I still must do even if I'm losing you.

EE, 2.21.13