Opening up old wounds

I try not to ever let Sabrina notice me get upset about Max, and what happened to him. But it was really hard to hold it together in the car the other day. An ambulance drove by, and Sabrina asked why people need ambulances. I explained that ambulances help people who get hurt.

"Why do people get hurt?" she asked.

I tell her that they can get hurt if they're in a car accident, for example, or if they fall down.

"Or if they're crossing the street and don't look and a car bumps into them!" Sabrina says.

"Yes," I tell her.

"Max got hurt a long time ago," says Sabrina.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"When he was born, he got hurt."

The tears that well up take me by surprise. We've never had this conversation before.

"How did he get hurt?" Sabrina asks.

"His head got hurt," I say.

"How did his head get hurt?" she asks.

I can't talk for a couple of seconds, because there's a sob caught in my throat and I don't want her to hear it. Finally I say, "We don't know. Something happened to him when he was born."

And now I'm slinking down a bit in the seat so she can't look in the rearview mirror and see the tears streaming down my face.

"Was he bleeding?" she asks.

"No," I say.

"Did it hurt?" she wants to know.

"No, it didn't hurt," I say.

And then she's quiet again. And I'm driving, and the tears keep coming. I wish I could pull over and have a good cry, but of course I can't.

A couple minutes later, we get to this big hill the kids love. Max gestures to it. "You want to go up the hill?" I ask.

"YESSSS!" both kids say.

And so we do, and as I drive up it they squeal and then they laugh and laugh when we came down. And I'm laughing, too. And boy, does it feel good.