The waterpolo player waits to enter the game, intent on what is happening on the other side the lane line, ready to play with those healthy strong hands.

Then a few days later (monday night), in practice, the teammate he is blocking throws the ball with full force and as his forearm comes down on top of Riley's hand, a burning searing pain. Coach asks him to wiggle his fingers, he can a little - first guess, everything is just fine. He climbs into my car and I see that contorted face and wonder. But he says "I think I'm ok - it hurts so bad but..." and we get home and ice it and decide to see what the morning will bring.

It doesn't look terrible at first light (tuesday morn) but it doesn't look right and I decide, "better safe than sorry" and we head to the doctor's office to find out. Seven crazy hours later we are home with a stack of paperwork and xrays and directions of when to return. I briefly wonder why in the heck we can't just have a simple break, a cast, some ice cream and some ibuprofen - instead we have a spiral fracture that requires surgery and general anesthesia. And then I remember that we do things big around here. Big and dramatic and so I try to take a deep breath and show my brave face while my nerves twitch and the corners of my eyes threaten to betray me.

He is able to go to school wednesday, let his teachers know, gain a bit of fame - I work through the day and try hard not to fret.

Then thursday arrives and we head to the hospital, check in, and wait - "just chillin, ma" says he, the brave face still on me

But when i find myself standing alone as they wheel him away and around the corner with a dopey, slightly drugged smile I can't hold on anymore. I find a corner in the hospital to cry and worry and breathe and take stock of things and then my phone starts ringing with all of our people and their love and concern. The time melts away in a jumble and then, suddenly, the doctor is there to explain how well this boy has done - that there are now three titanium screws in his hand
and they let me go to him and watch him come out of the haze and smile and say "hi, mama" and "i feel so much better" and I smile back and think about how big this all feels and how small at the same time.

We come home to friend-brought goodies in the fridge and his first meal in almost 24 hours - huge and hearty - and we both sleep a long hard dreamless sleep and now it is friday

and I can hardly believe it all happened.

Thank you all for your concern and the bright light - it was felt deeply. Please have a lovely weekend, ours will be quiet and lazy and full of all sorts of gratitude.