17 Steps 12:45 PM

17 steps from bottom to top
17 steps from the landing behind the security door to the door that opens into home and love and all that comes with it.
17 steps she climbed, by herself, in her skates, tears pouring down her face.
17 steps to the door
1 step into the house
And then she sat on the floor in tears.
She sat before I could get to her.
Questions tumbling through my mind as I verbalized nothing and sat down with her to finally discover what was upsetting her.
As I unlaced her skates and listened, she told me of the fall from the car, her hurting elbow and shoulder, and her arrival at that moment in our house.
Skates off, she stood and I held her, sobs working through her body - was it only about a fall? Was there more as the tears seemed more heavy than those resulting from a slight scrape?
I just held her, rubbed her back, and let her cry.
It was only later that I realized that she requested me, but I was not notified though I sat in the house twenty feet away and that she ventured from the car, through the parking area, up the outdoor stairs, and then up the hall stairs on her own.

1 Thoughts:

GirlGriot said...

I'm hurting for her ... and for you, too. Why weren't you called? Yes, there's the "pick yourself up, dust yourself off" school of thought about these things, but I'm sorry: sometimes when you ask for help, you really just need the exact help you asked for. This isn't a time for "toughing it out" or any such thing.