May 12, 2003

uncharacteristically cool

It's a cool night in Atlanta, as if the clouds and stars made a mistake, drifted in from the north to remind me what May used to be like. It was riding weather today. There's nothing like the first day of a new season in a climate where your finger tips can feel the air change in the instant it switches, something that makes horse and rider a little more alive, knowing the trails will soon change from green to cascades of autumn color, or from barren to barely blossoming spring.

One of those nights.

Jenna's asleep on her Daddy's side of the bed. She has been on my side for six nights. I don't know why--as if she moved in knowing that she was in for one doosey of an illness, maybe trying to combine me and her father into a single nearby comfort source. In our own way, we made it work.

I got four out of the five daily doses of this new medicine down her before bedtime. Not bad considering we started at noon. It could be my imagination--and I know I've said this before--but I'm hopeful this is a turning point for our sweet girl, a new season, a night where crisp air will help her breathe, a familiar side of the bed.

--This post brought to you by Tylenol PM.--