All the Tea in China

put it in a big brown bag for me

Sophie had a really big seizure this morning, right after Lulu fed her. I think she was pulled too close to the table that holds her supplies, and she hit her elbow on the corner of it which triggered the seizure. Lulu was busy in the kitchen washing up the supplies the syringes the feeding tube the extension the little daisy plate that holds the syringes on the big yellow lacquer tray so she didn’t see the seizure or see me standing over Sophie trying to calm her trying to keep her legs her arms from hitting anything else. I opened the seat belt on the wheelchair and told Carl to tilt her back just a bit. It was over and Lulu asked whether she should brush her teeth now, and I said No. Nothing now. Just let her be. Lulu rolled her back to her bedroom where it’s quiet. No tv, I said, just let her be. I washed the pot in the sink that I’d left to soak overnight the one with the spinach zucchini one-pan lasagna. I put away all the utensils and daisy plates on the drying rack and straightened the syringes drying on the drying mat and threw away the feeding tube and went and got a new one from the boys’ bedroom where we store all the supplies now. Then I sat in the dining room and ate a ginger lemon scone I’d bought yesterday and cried.

Weirdly, this is not my story to tell but the person whose story it is to tell is Sophie and she can’t tell a story like this at least not like this. Even as I feel a particular responsibility to take care of her I don’t feel a responsibility to tell her story. Particularly. She’s as sweet as Tupelo honey she’s an angel of the first degree. I know that’s a love song maybe from a man to a woman but it comes to mind right now as I think about Sophie about her story about mine.

Tupelo Honey