And That Other Shoe Will Drop


I walk out of Laddu’s daycare with literally a spring in my step. My mind is actively exploring if the way I walk can be termed jaunty. I pause and peer through the window of Laddu’s class. She is chatting with a little boy. They smile, hold hands and run off to play. I smile so much that I could burst. This little one had so much separation anxiety just one year ago. I continue at a slower pace toward the car lingering just enough to catch the color of the maple leaves, the nip in the air, the fog that coats all of the world around me with an ethereal filter.

“I love my life!” I say aloud and just as I finish know from some deep part of me that I jinxed myself. The rest of the short walk to the car is filled with thoughts that would eventually make it to this blog post.

When I am in the thick of misery, I feel like I deserve the pain, the angst, the worry, the sorrow. I tell myself no one can be happy all the time. Life is all about ups and downs. I attribute the valley to a past high not for a moment thinking I have earned a future high. However, the moment I realize that I am in a place of peace, joy, contentment or pure happiness, I am thinking ahead, dreading the next low. I count the minutes, hugging the precious feeling a little too tight thereby losing the moment and the joy.

I sink into the driver’s seat and turn the ignition on. The lady in the car next to me turns my way and I recognize her. She says something and I lower the window to talk to her. I hear the phone ding. I decide to ignore it and turn the indicator. She decides to leave before I can and so I wait. Since I am waiting, I pull out my phone and there it is.

A calm voice declares she is the nurse at the twins’ school and that Ammu got sick on the bus. Please come pick her up she says as she hangs up. I recalibrate everything I have planned for the day, mentally adjusting to the new normal. I drive over, pick Ammu up, get a migraine from the throw up smell, run loads of laundry, wash her hair and finally eat my breakfast at 10:30 AM.

Oddly, I feel at peace. Knowing that if the shoe had to drop, I am glad it was something small. A day of missed school, cuddling on the couch, endless TV time and hopefully a better evening.

One thought on “And That Other Shoe Will Drop

  1. Oh my goodness – it was as though, you picked strand by strand of thought from my brain, and wrote it down! I wonder why we have been conditioned not to enjoy our highs, and fully immerse ourselves in the lows.

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