I exhale another breath.
This.
This is why I love my husband and will love him until the day I die.
He always knows when I need him, even whenIdon’t know I do.
Blade
2:20 p.m.
I stride into the Children’s Emergency Department, scanning for Layla and Sawyer. Traffic was horrendous on the way here, so it took me longer than the forty minutes I anticipated.
When I don’t see my wife or son, I speak with a nurse at the desk and am told Sawyer is being seen by a doctor. The nurse directs me where to go and a few minutes later, I locate them.
Layla’s eyes meet mine the way they always do. I always know she’s happy to see me. “Hey,” she says softly.
“I’m sorry it took me so long. There was an accident,” I say as I move next to her at the bed. I shift my gaze to Sawyer whose face reveals his relief to see me here. “Hey, buddy. How are you doing?”
Layla always says Sawyer is a mini me. She’s not wrong. Sawyer keeps his emotions to himself most of the time and doesn’t like to show any pain he’s feeling. Over the last decade, I’ve worked hard to let Layla in on mine but doing this doesn’t come easily to me. I know my son is always watching and learning from me, so it doesn’t surprise me to find him trying to remain strong and unaffected right now.
“I’m okay,” he says, like he’s simply here to chat to a doctor about something inconsequential. His voice wavers, though, giving me the full picture.
I sit on the chair next to the bed. “Your wrist hurts?”
He shrugs. “No. They gave me some medicine for that.”
“Right. But it was hurting before the painkillers?”
He shrugs again. “A little.”
I take hold of his hand. “It’s okay to tell people when you’re in pain, Sawyer. We need to know so we can help you through it.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
I squeeze his hand. “Are you worried about what will happen next?”
This time, he shakes his headno. But he swallows hard.
“If you get worried, I want you to know Mum and I are here for you. We’ve been through hard things like this and can answer any questions you have. Or if you need a hug, we can do that too, okay? Whatever you need, we’ve got.”
His big brown eyes stare back at me, filled with so many emotions he’s trying hard to handle himself. I don’t expect him to say much right now, but he surprises me when he asks, “Does it hurt to have an X-ray?”
My heart fucking squeezes.
This is the stuff no one tells you about parenting.
I remember the first time I realised that having a child was the same as ripping your heart out of your chest and handing it to the world to do what it will with it. Sawyer was barely born when I had that moment of clarity, and fuck if it didn’t hit me hard.
I’m not the kind of father I thought I’d be.
I imagined I’d be stricter, harder, tougher on my children. And while Layla and I have set good boundaries for Sawyer and Elizabeth, and expect certain behaviours from them, I am far softer than I envisioned.
Thank fuck for that.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I wasn’t the father I am, Sawyer would not have asked me that question. He wouldn’t have the trust and faith in me that he has. My sonknows that he can come to me with any question, any thought,anything, and I will not judge or belittle him for it. I will hold his heart with care and love him exactly how he is while doing my best to guide him through life in the way he chooses to live it.
I keep hold of his hand. “X-rays don’t hurt, but it can be hard to hold still sometimes. It might be a little uncomfortable, but the actual X-ray doesn’t hurt. They’re just taking a picture of the inside of your body. You know how Mum likes to take a million photos of you? And asks you to smile or stand differently for the photo?” At his nod, I continue, “It’s like that.”
