A CONVALESCENT

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                Gabe has been hit by a car! He’s ok! He bruised his spleen! More details to come.

                What I wanted to report on first is that this morning the message on the white board in the

kitchen said, “Look Out!” I would have said something regardless of Gabe’s incident.

                The accident was at very slow speed and purely accidental. We live at the top of a hill and many

lost drivers choose to turn around in our driveway. What they don’t expect is Gabe chasing his

basketball. Crash! Screams! The consecution of  procedures here is familiar and dull once we know the

outcome. Two days observed in the hospital, a tender belly. A dented hood, frazzled nerves.

                But, rejoice with me, I have beaten anxiety. There’s this trick I made up where I use the windshield wipers of my mind when it creeps in. Blood pressure low except when it’s checked.

And, oh Gabe, one of his virtues is bravery, hunched over and cursing, but we let him. The

driver is an elderly woman who calls every night. She gives off the impression that she is guilty about

more abstract things in her life and now wants to pay Gabe’s hospital bills, which are not extensive and

already covered. She has dropped off, carefully, a board game he has no interest in.

                No doubt, the accident has disrupted my reflections and I have not forgotten the message on

the white board. That investigation is ongoing.