Sat. June 14,2003 6:06 pm in the air between Fl & IN "Chicken..." -Morgan Young It's been a full flight. And it's been a full week. A week ago yesterday we flew out of Indy at 6 am. Slater is next to me, in the middle seat; a stranger on the isle. He protested, but accepted his station in stoic Slater fashion. I'm blessed to have him here Last night in the pool at Mitch and Karen's he was playing "Chicken" on the shoulders of his man-sized cousin, Jeremy. Before I could speak or move, Slater flew backward swift and hard, with all his weight, headfirst into the cool night water. In chicken, this is no noteworthy occurrence. But as the back of Slate's head shot back swift and hard, it missed the concrete edge of the pool by mere inches. "No more chicken!" I harshly and sternly declared. I looked over at Slate's grandma Joann, and with a shocked face she held up her thumb and index finger to show the tiny margin between the back of his head and the concrete pool. In the moments that followed, I saw real-time instant replays in my mind; each one made me physically whence and shudder. The same happened in my writing this. In the hour after it happened I thought of how the evening and our vacation could have ended in an emergency room or worse In that time loop, I thought of how I might be tormented by what almost was; I couldn't seem to stop the replay in my mind. But it soon came to me that God had kept little Slate safe. For all I knew the Almighty had sent an angel with plump knees to sit on the edge of the pool. Last night as I lay in the dark bedroom, I nearly got up just to watch him sleep and pray over him. The hour of night kept me in bed, but I prayed over him anyway. Every time today that I have cupped the back of his head, rubbing his scalp, it has conjured emotions and thoughts that have made this mundane act profound and rewarding. I saw last night that the line between incredible delight and life-jarring terror is but a few inches. And I believe that regardless of what these eyes see, sometimes the Holy One is loving enough to stand in the that tiny gap. For that, I am eternally grateful and moved. I will not touch the back of his little big head the same again. |
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