Parental Helplessness

I have never felt so useless, helpless, disconnected, or out of the loop as I did on Wednesday when Kelly told me she was taking Tate to the ER.

1,300 miles of separation will do that to you. While Kelly was filling out HIPPA forms in a Fort Worth waiting room, I was in pacing back and forth in a Philadephia conference room.

All I could think was that I shouldn't have left Kelly alone with Tate while he still had a stomach virus. Not that I could have done anything to keep Tate from being admitted - but at least I could have felt useless while holding Tate in Fort Worth instead of feeling useless while impatiently waiting for Kelly's next text message in Philadelphia.

I hated not being there. I hated not knowing. I hated that I couldn't hold Tate in my arms. I hated that I couldn't tell him that he was going to be OK.

I hated every minute of it.

And once Kelly told me that Tate was being admitted I had had enough! The next flight out of Dodge was at 6 AM the next morning - which was not soon enough!

But knowing that I would be home in a mere 12 hours suddenly made me feel a little better.

I finally got to the hospital around 9 AM and soon had Tate sitting in my lap.

There was nothing more that could have been done by me being there in person. So I did the one thing I could do - I whispered in his ear that God loved him and so did I.

Sometimes that's all we need to say and hear.


It certainly seemed to help the both of us.