Let me start with the events building up to this release.
Monday. I pick up my twin baby nephews at 3 in the afternoon, noticing their scraped and bruised faces. My sister tells me tearfully that these wounds are from falling out of the stroller earlier in the day. The contrast between their adorable innocent faces and the lumps on their heads gets me all emotionally stirred up as my protective instict is awake and enraged. She reassures me that she’s been watching them closely and hasn’t noticed any worrying behavior from either of them. It had also been long enough since the fall that the concern of a concussion or serious internal injury had mostly passed.
I agree that they should be alright beyond shock, and just need to rest with close monitoring. Satisfied with this diagnosis, she catches the bus for work. My plan had been to take them across the street to see their grandparents, so I headed there before taking them home with me.
Now, I knew that my mom would be upset at seeing these precious children hurt in any way, and didn’t want to stir her emotions by bringing them by. But too late. I’d already set plans in motion that I couldn’t go back on.
Upon seeing the boys, both my parents begin to hammer into me the “seriousness of the situation” and advise me to take them to the ER immediately to be checked out for anything serious. Then they begin their case for having me report their mom to CPS and having the kids taken away for neglect (this reaction stems from a long waged war between her and them, which just produces resentment and nothing useful).
Now let me say here that while my teen sister may not make great choices for her own life all the time, I do not believe that she is capable of harming her children in any way. Yes, she is inexperienced but she is not abusive, nor does she deserve to go through such a tragedy.
All of their pressures are coming at me way too fast – their panic and outrage escalating the situation to an unbearable volume. I tell them that my boyfriend can pick us up in 15 minutes when he gets off work and we’ll take them to get checked. How can I refuse?
The clouds gather
We arrive at the ER not really knowing what to do or say. It’s a pretty uncomfortable situation, one I don’t exactly feel capable of handling correctly. We walk in the doors and just go where we think we’re supposed to. My emotions make it difficult to communicate, and I feel a little hysteria coming on as I try to sum up the situation. We’re led calmly to the registration desk and I try to hold my shit together enough to fill out paperwork and answer some simple questions. We finish this up and are escorted to a small out-of-the-way waiting room. Due to the torrent of accidents that seemed to all happen within the previous few hours, the ER is absolutely slammed, putting us at the end of a long list.
We get to the 2 hour mark and still have a wait ahead of us. We’re trying to entertain the boys and keep them and ourselves from losing our shit in public. I even go outside for a cigarette at one point. (and it should be noted that I don’t smoke, and have had maybe 2 or 3 cigarettes in my entire lifetime )
It starts pouring. Thunder booms all around me
but I don’t feel any of it.
I’m just trying not to give in to the fears bubbling below the surface that my parents bestowed upon me. Are the boys going to be ok? Should my sister be investigated as a risk to their safety? Am I to be the one to instigate this – to tear a family apart?? This is all too much.
By the time we rock both boys to sleep, 3 hours after arriving, we’re guided to a clean bed to set the boys on. We wait about 10 more minutes for the doctor to come over to us, check some basic things, give an official diagnosis that “they’re gonna be fine”, and send us on our way. But not before holding us hostage for 15 more while our discharge papers are filed.
Bullshit. All of it
And now we’ve come to the point I was getting to in the first place. The significance of the title.
The sudden storm arrived as we did at the hospital. The main downpour and thunder occurred during my stress cigarette. And as we emerged from the emergency room doors, the day’s last rays of sunshine broke through the clouds, through the darkness to guide us to freedom/home. It was quite a poetic moment.
The clouds recede and sun shines through
The peacefulness I experienced at seeing the sun after all that tension and uncomfortable waiting instilled in me a sense of awe, as if the weather had behaved according to our emotions. I felt almost like some otherworldly force was trying to reach me and comfort me. Especially as I am highly affected by the changing of the seasons and depend on the amount of sunshine I can receive in a day. Call it seasonal depression. Call it just trying to be in tune with the universe. Something like that. But this moment spoke to me and helped me when I needed some light.
Well, unfathomable Divine Being, I hear you. Know that I am watched over and loved. I know that every situation has the potential to lead to a good thing, however hard it may be to recognize at first. Thank you for showing me your love and support through the light of the sun (: