His scream, that is what I will remember.
We are on the way to the ER, Cole busted his head open.
Words barely heard over the symphony of pain that pull my heart strings, until they groan, ready to snap.
We just watched his head disappear through the window and then there was blood.
Puddles of crimson life gathering in the hollows of the hard brown stone, beside the soft prone body.
He was riding his scooter down the ramp your dad built for your mom and he hit the wall.
Memories pull me away from the conversation...
Logan got going to fast and ran through the chain link fence on his big wheel and hit a boat with his face. (Fourteen months ago)
Logan slipped off the stairs and went 'bounce bounce' on the Tupperware tub and flew into the banister. (Two and a half years ago)
I dove through a barb wire fence, catching my leg, parting the meat about fifteen inches. (Twenty two years ago)
Snapping back to reality, the cold phone pressing into my ear...
It will be alright, he's just earning his stripes.
But I still hear the screams.
[Seven stitches straight across the forehead. Boys, what can I say. ]