Chronic

It seems to always be the older siblings who heave away the sticks and stones that block the forward path. And leave the younger ones a smoother ride. When my daughter first became sick, no one believed her. “You’re truant,” the school told my high school freshman. “You’re going to get me in trouble,” said I. “You are depressed and have anxiety,” said the first doctor. You, you, you…you’re doing this, said everyone. Four years, appendicitis and a gall bladder removal later…we realized she was sick. Chronically. Flattening and speeding the way when her younger sister developed the same problem. A tummy on fire. We greeted THAT one’s illness…not as an old friend, no, but at least as a familiar. And saved my younger the anguish and helplessness, the heartbreak…of years of doubting and disbelief.

When my older daughter looks back, my hope is she realizes, understands…forgives…that parenting is a stick and stone strewn path of chronic learning.

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Another talented flash/micro nonfiction author to read: https://noe-lisa-arana.medium.com/the-birth-of-a-strong-girl-3168275b6466