Project Full Recovery

2008.

It still rings in my head. Every time he pulls his hand from his pocket. No one really understands the meaning of 2008. Or the overwhelming sense of panic when I hear that a loved one has to get surgery, let alone my mother.

Saturday morning, when my dad opened my door in a small panic to inform me of her injury, I was back in 2008.

We met her at the hospital--that very same hospital.

My brother felt it too. The nausea, the fear—the panic.

We prayed. And so many others did too. We all prayed.

“Surgery”

Turns out she needs surgery.

Hello, 2008.

I am trying to be faith-FULL. But I find myself in a panic.

I am so beyond fearful.

Ok, two different situations,

Two different surgeries.

Nope. Rationalizing doesn’t help.

I am still fearful.

2008 has swallowed me whole.

2008.