Always With Me

Part 40- Reagan Elliott

Jase and Abigail began school a few weeks ago, but today I was at home with a sick Abigail. Dahlia was running the store today along with the help of her mom that I also hired a few weeks ago. It was mid-September, which meant that Duke would be home in a week. I could hardly stand the continual waiting, but through prayer and keeping myself extremely busy, it became bearable. That is, until Abigail got sick. She was running a fever when we woke up this morning, so I called Dahlia and asked if she would cover the store for today. I hated to ask her to do so much, but I needed to be home with my daughter. She went with me to drop Jase off at school and then as soon as she got home she began throwing up. After a doctor's visit and a painful shot later, she was diagnosed with the flu. It wasn't flu season yet but somehow the flu had crept into my daughter's system and it now left her helpless in her bed. The most heartbreaking part of the whole thing was the constant flow of tears she had on the way home.

"I can't be sick when Daddy gets home," she said as she cried. She had tears and snot running down her face and her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail behind her head. She didn't have on her glasses because her head was hurting and she looked absolutely pitiful sitting in her car seat. Katie was babbling beside her, and I absolutely hated having her within reach of the flu virus, but I had no choice. My babysitters were in college and my husband was a military officer for the army. When he first left after we had children, I had to constantly remind myself to take it one day at a time. Today was one of those days where that phrase bounced back and forth in my head.

"I know, baby. You'll be okay, I promise. The doctor gave you medicine and a shot to help you get better. You'll get better before he gets home," I said as I reached back to grab her hand. She took it, and it was wet from the tears that she tried so hard to wipe away. They continued to flow.

"The shot still hurts, Mommy. So does my head. I just want to go to sleep," she said quietly. Almost instantly, on the short ride home from the doctor, she fell asleep. I heard her whimper her last cry before she fell asleep against the window. It made my heart physically hurt to see my daughter hurting.

"God, she just wants to feel better. Please help my daughter, God."

When we got home, I had to find a way to get both of my daughters into the house. I ended up pulling my car into the carport and put it in park. I looked around to see that no one was around and then I took Katie inside and sat her carseat down in the living room. I then ran back outside and pulled Abigail from her seat. She fell limp in my arms and I carried her back into her room and put her into the bed. She was burning up with fever. I left her door open so I could hear her if she needed me, and then I went and pulled Katie from her seat. She was wide awake, so I walked and put her in the packing play in the living room. I laid her down and she continued to talk in her baby language.

When everything happened today, all that I could think about was Duke. When he was home, he was usually the calm one that could always comfort our children when they were sick. I was immensely happy that he would be home for good within the next week. Nine months was too long to be away from the person that you love.

I walked into Abigail's room to check on her a few minutes later. She was still asleep, but now she had covered herself from head to toe in a thick cocoon of blankets. I walked over and checked her temperature of her forehead with my hand. She was still burning up. I sighed and checked the time. I still had two hours before I was supposed to give her any type of medicine. I turned to walk away in defeat when I saw the scrap book that I'd seen Abigail looking at a few months earlier. I grabbed it and walked out of the room.

When I got back into the living room, I sat down on the couch and opened the pages. I flipped through picture after picture of my friends and family growing up. I got to the page that Abigail had been stuck on and stared hard at the picture. Staring into my eyes was my sister, Angie. For some odd reason, though, Becca's face popped into my head as I looked at the picture of my sister. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I looked at the picture again. Almost as if I were looking at the picture with a new set of eyes, I glanced down at it again. This time, all that I could see in the picture was Becca Lowrey.