I’ve been thinking a lot about this time last year. I walk through my days remembering. I was sick a year ago. I felt like I had the flu. We went to breakfast with friends, visited another friend at their house up the mountain. Tonight was the night the headache started.
It’s been a year since meningitis. On this day last year, here’s where I was:
I walked outside into the late June green of our little farm and told Seth I was going back to the doctor. I had a fever. The pounding between my ears was so intense I couldn’t think. It hurt to breathe. It had been going on too long. I remembered for the thousandth time that day that it was our daughter Lucille’s first birthday. All I wanted to do was hold her, sing her happy birthday, put on her tiny feet the red shoes I’d bought her a few days before. I wanted to give her her first taste of chocolate icing but instead I got in my car and wondered for a minute if I could make the drive by myself.
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