{"id":340,"date":"2015-08-13T17:01:48","date_gmt":"2015-08-13T17:01:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/?p=340"},"modified":"2016-09-12T16:32:03","modified_gmt":"2016-09-12T16:32:03","slug":"short-story-precious-tragedy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/short-story-precious-tragedy\/","title":{"rendered":"Short Story: Precious Tragedy"},"content":{"rendered":"

I<\/strong> realize now, the worst day of my life was truly the best. My ill-spent life raced through my mind, during the hours I spent trapped in the crumpled wreckage of my new Beemer. Fear in my wife\u2019s eyes turned dull as Helen lost consciousness. I was supposed to save the day, but I could only watch in frustration as everything I loved teetered on extinction.<\/p>\n

Severe itching brings me out of my reverie. My kneecaps are reddened stinging stumps.<\/p>\n

. It\u2019s not her fault both of my legs from the knees on down are gone.<\/em><\/p>\n

Helen\u2019s gentle laugh is like water on glass. \u201cJust where you left it, behind your coffee mug.\u201d My wife has also been transformed through our disaster. How strange to think that it was her nagging that drove me from our home to work late. <\/em>She gazes at me with eyes full of love and commitment. The pain of her injuries has brought out her kindness and gentleness. Some days I want to be grouchy, but as I look at her\u2026 she makes me\u2026 more than I could be otherwise.<\/em><\/p>\n

For twenty years, I have slaved away earning a fortune. For what? My life is a mess. My children can\u2019t stand me. But now\u2026 Why has my son, Jason, come home to care for us? We have enough money. He could have hired others to do it. Somehow, I think he still loves us, despite my failure as a dad. <\/em>The tear on my lips is tasteless. I hate crying like an emotional wuss. I don\u2019t deserve his kindness. I don\u2019t deserve my wife\u2019s sweetness. I barely deserve to live. Wouldn\u2019t it be kinder to them all if I just slipped away? <\/em><\/p>\n

I look into my wife\u2019s crystalline blue eyes. Her love is all that is keeping me here. Her beautiful face has barely aged.<\/em> Passionate love bursts out of my heart towards her. Of course, we share the loyal love of a life together. But the raging passion of a teenager has reignited. I love her with all my heart. I am reminded of our joy when our children were young. The summer at the lake house was the last peaceful time we shared before the tensions of my new job and the angst of teenagers.<\/p>\n

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my handsome son enter the room. I know my wife raised Jason right, but I\u2019d like to think I played a role in his becoming a man. I want to remind Helen of the good times and hope my son overhears. \u201cDo you remember back in eighty-eight at the lake house?\u201d She breathes deeply in response and sighs.<\/p>\n

I now notice that a man in a white coat entered the room with my son. I turn to see his confused face. He looks at Jason and says, \u201cWho is he talking to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s why you\u2019re here, doc.\u201d Jason says, \u201cHe still hasn\u2019t come to terms with my Mom\u2019s passing.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I realize now, the worst day of my life was truly the best. My ill-spent life raced through my mind, during the hours I spent trapped in the crumpled wreckage of my new Beemer. Fear in my wife\u2019s eyes turned dull as Helen lost consciousness. I was supposed to save the day, but I could […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-340","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-my-books","category-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/340","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=340"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/340\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2099,"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/340\/revisions\/2099"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=340"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=340"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanborns.org\/word_press\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=340"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}