My children see me as Justice, blindfolded, holding the scales.  Who is right, what is fair? Sometimes they see me wearing a black & white shirt with a whistle between my teeth.  But what they mostly hear,  was Bill Cosby, who said it best, “We don’t care who did it, we just want quiet.”  I’ve had a lot of quiet this past month.  Alone in the hospital, nurses visiting me every two hours, waking me up to check to see if I was dead.

My Husband was there every minute he could be.  He would stay all day & then go get the kids.  The kids would wander slowly into the room.  Arms akimbo, eyes looking everywhere but at me.  “Hi Guys!!!”  I would say.  “hi mom”. My oldest would sit on the couch & text away…My youngest would tell me a little about his games, but I had to ask, my middle one would talk about what she did at home for the animals.  Then I would tell them I am tired, they needed an out, “BYE!” they would yell & out the door as fast as they could go.  I didn’t blame them, I envied them. I didn’t want to be here either. Cold & scary thoughts would creep into my head, were dismissed by the warmth of the sun through the blinds & knowing my husband was bringing me Starbucks with extra cream.

When I got home & slept for almost 48 hours straight.  My husband would tell the kids, “Shhh, Mom’s sleeping.”  When I woke up…” I am awake, come & see me”.  I’m tired of being alone.  I sat with each one & listened to them tell me how much they hated me being gone, how much they missed me.  How scared they were.  They would tell me they didn’t like to see me at the hospital because I didn’t look like me.  The beeps, tubes scared them.

Then as though I was never gone, they would resume the fighting… HE SAID, SHE SAID…..

I understand the end of this story. Almost every single person that came to visit me, came because they loved me.  My husband never wanted to leave me.  My kids came into the room with their arms covering their chest trying to prevent their own hearts from breaking. It was all bravado.  Sometimes our thoughts bring us to places “where angels fear to tread,” Its ok to visit, but follow the trail back home,  having learned  something new about your wonderful life.

So am I Justice or do I have a whistle in my teeth or do I yearn for quiet.  I am a Mother, I am all three (with bravado.)