A fateful day
Memories of a mother – 1.
Today, my big nineteen-year-old son went to the sea with his girlfriend on a huge motorbike. “Mom, you don’t have to worry about my lunch tomorrow, we’re going on a trip! You know, tomorrow is two years since we’ve been together, so we agreed instead of a gift, and to celebrate a little enrollment in the desired college, I’m the man now when I passed the entrance exam at two colleges, huh? Ha? Don’t you have a smart son? I will go to bed a little earlier to make you happy. Good night! ”He said at the door last night shortly after midnight (really a little earlier!).
He worked out almost perfectly the tactics of realizing as many of his intentions as painlessly as possible (read: with as little polemics as possible, with as few details as possible about which we have different opinions) and at the same time igniting his mother’s fears as little as possible!
Small purse around the waist, leather jacket, black helmet, kidney belt. He sat his girlfriend with a pink helmet behind him. Kisses, smiles and “brrrrrrrrr” – he goes like the wind.
I try to be calm, I didn’t even say, “Marko, did you take insulin? Do you have enough strips? And the spare brace? Did you bring sweets? Let me see where those candies are? You have a diabetic card, and a health card? How much sugar did you have this morning? How about some more breakfast? Did you bring a sandwich?”
I didn’t say it, I just waved with a smile “Goodluck!”, Which doesn’t mean that the already scratched plate isn’t spinning through my head for the million and first time. Maybe a million and a second, a third, a fourth, I don’t even count anymore. How many moments are there in twelve long years? Twelve years with the diabetes of my sweetest son Marko. Fears. Fears. Fears.
I love this young man. I’m full of pride when I watch him how full of energy he is, agile, ideas just bursting out of him. Whatever he imagines, he makes it himself, always a light ringleader and organizer with a large number of friends from childhood, from school, from the neighborhood, from vacations, from diabetic society. But, constantly running in front of the ore (to put a cart before the horse), constantly on the brink of danger. He would say “mother’s fears” again! Possible, even very likely. Most parents think so, but it seems to me that these fears multiply MANY times with a child who grows up and lives with diabetes.
I remember that day as today, I went through it countless times again. Again and again, and yet I still fail to fill that deep notch of experience with peace.
People say time heals… Be already! And it was August 17, 1997.
Other text from this series can be found here