We’re all hanging by a thread…

Oh the fragility of this life. Yesterday we were having the time of our lives. Baby boy was laughing. Doodoodadda, Poopoopapa, and Mi Gramma were laughing just as loud. We were playing together after his school time and taking our time walking, riding, and playing soccer on the way home.

Baby boy went to kick the ball again and this time landed awkwardly with a slight twist. Thought nothing of it. He, however, did not get up. Tears flowed. We all looked at each other in disbelief. Surely he was just tired and would be fine. Dadda thought otherwise. He instantly knew something was wrong. Carried his son home. An hour or so later an ambulance would arrive and the paramedics would take him to hospital. Broken leg.

Just. Like. That.

Our trip to the Austrian alps? Off. Our dream of Krit and Vivi joining us for grandbaby time in the Alps will have to wait. Aedán is in a cast. He’s experiencing pain. We’re all heartbroken. He will heal. It will take time. Hopefully we’ll get to the Alps next year. We can plan and we will. We cannot control other people, circumstances, and oftentimes how our own bodies handle what they once did so damn well. Hard reminder.

We’re all hanging by a thread.

Make plans. Don’t marry ‘em. Make plans. Expect disruptions. Make plans. Adapt. Survival of the fittest is an incomplete thought. Darwin believed survival went to the most adaptable. He was right. Adapt Aedán James. Adapt. Damn.