Monday, May 16, 2011

The "D" word

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There they are, the Three Musketeers. Excuse my daughter's unlady-like posture (hey, she's just a child!) and Katie's very fake smile. In fact, Gracie's the only one who's looking great in this pic.

We were over at Mom's yesterday, and I started talking to Gracie. When there's 8 people in the house, and a lot of those people are very loud, it's kind of hard to have a private conversation.

But Gracie wanted to lie on the couch with me, snuggling up like we used to do. She wasn't in the greatest of moods, but she's had a tough few weeks. She broke her arm, and then last week, we found out she has MRSA. Yep, you read that correctly.

Her oh-so-wise mother allowed her to visit two children who had just been released from the hospital for being treated for MRSA. My brother begged her not to do allow it, but that didn't make a difference.

So, we were all supposed to be together for Mother's Day on the Saturday before, but we couldn't because of Gracie's illness. She's on some strong medicine that messes up her stomach, gives her heartburn and rashes...I can't even remember what else it does.

Her principal said it was fine for her to come to school, as long as the areas were covered (I was very surprised by this). The following week, she had to take part in our state's high-stakes annual testing. You know, the one that forces teachers to "teach to the test" all year, instead of being given the creativity they and the students deserve.

Well, stress doesn't do much to help recover from MRSA (although I understand you never really recover, that you'll always be a carrier). She said she wasn't stressed, but I know better. Gracie pushes herself; she's a high achiever who can't stand it when she does badly.

And now, her parents' court date for the final divorce is tomorrow. She gets her cast off in the morning, then it's off to family court. I asked her if she was sad about it, and she just gave me a little nod. We talked briefly, I told her I was praying for her, and that she could call me any time she wanted to talk.

But it wasn't enough. Divorce is a nasty, nasty thing. Even when it's the right thing to do.


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