day 72: scarred

Dear ASC,

There's a scar on my right wrist, about 1/2 an inch long.

It's been there for just a year now....a year as of tomorrow.

I rushed that afternoon, on the last day of school, to get everyone home, supper made, and all at precisely the right time so that you would be home just as I pulled the pizza out of the oven so that I could leave for graduation. Kind of a big deal, since I'm kind of the one in charge of it.

Couldn't get a hold of you until minutes before I had to leave....and you were still at work, a half hour away. By that time, the kids were fighting, and I was growing rather impatient. And instead of easily pulling the hot baking stone out of the oven, I let it rest right on my wrist.

My tears of anger and irritation that night during the ceremony were easily camouflaged and mistaken for happy/sad tears.

I now can't think of graduation without thinking of that night, the one that scarred me. I was too caught up in what I needed, in acting out the perfect plan, to be able to roll with the punches and be flexible. I don't even know if I said I was sorry. (I am sorry)

Tomorrow night, I won't be waiting for you to get home (well, in a way, I guess I will be).