Hiccups

Tonight, my little girl had a hard time getting to sleep. She had the hiccups and was worried she'd die in her sleep from them.

She's always had questions about death, but she's been more preoccupied than ever since the beginning of the school year. You see, at the top of the stairwell in her school there is a photograph of a bright-eyed little boy and a plaque commemorating his life (and death). she is in class with his sister and like I said, she's had death on her mind.

Tonight I was irritated with it. How am I supposed to know what to say to her questions? How do I know what will happen? I kept telling her to be quiet; that she was fine and that it was time for her to sleep, but she only got more worked up, and after a bit I went into her room and laid down next to her.

"I can't get these hiccups out of me", she said as she cried and then asked me again if she would die. I kissed her on the forehead and stroked her hair. I pulled the covers up around her and whispered,

"You're fine little one... everyone gets the hiccups... even mommy and daddy get them... No one's ever died from the hiccups." She calmed down immediately and was almost instantly asleep. I looked at her little body... her tiny shoulders rising up and down to the rhythm of her even breath. I looked at her sweet little arm and at her hand clutching two of my fingers. I tried to picture a world without her. I wondered how I'd ever...

... get through 3 endless days of mind-fucking corporate training. It's the kind of thing where you sit there and listen to a guy who get's paid 100k a year to basically read from a book of powerpoint slides.

Today we actually lucked out. This guy doesn't seem all that bad and may have actually had some experience in the area we are there to learn about.

I ended up going to lunch with the people sitting at the same table as me in class. This included a colleague (we'll call her "J" for now) and 2 other folks I don't know at all. I won't give them initials because I don't remember their names. One was a man and one was a woman.

While we were at lunch, we were talking about this and that. Finally, the discussion rolled around to our kids. I was talking about how my little girl is learning to tie her shoes and how mad she got when I finally tied one of them for her.

The man from our table laughed and said, "It doesn't get different for a long long time! I raised up two girls myself and I can tell you it doesn't get different for a long time." Then "J" asked him how old his daughters were now and about what they did for a living.

Right at that moment, I KNEW one of them had died. I knew it. I knew it without hearing anything. I don't know if it was in a look that he gave... or in the way he paused for just that brief moment... but I knew.

He went on to tell us how his oldest daughter was finishing up school and had recently gotten married. Then he told us about her husband, who is a Marine, and was recently shot in Iraq and who will be returning home soon.

"J" said, "Wow.. .that's alot for a new wife to have to deal with" and he replied,

"Yeah... well actually she's had it really tough the last couple of years as it is. We lost our youngest two years ago and she hasn't done well with that at all."

I knew it. I fucking knew it. How the fuck I knew it, I don't fucking know... but I fucking knew it.

And of couse, everyone was like, "Oh I'm so sorry..." and "Wow... that's so terrible..." I said, "That must have been earth-shattering." Luckily, I was able to apply what little filter I have and not say anything more.

Then I sat there for a moment and wondered if, under similar circumstances, I'd ...

... be able to keep on living.

Little one, the best I can do is tell you everything is fine; that you are healthy and that everyone gets the hiccups. I can kiss you on the forehead and stroke your hair. I can pull the covers up around you to make sure you stay warm. I can wait here with you, until your eyes close, your breath becomes even and you fall asleep,

and hope I'll never know.