Plagued

It's late and I'm sitting in my camping chair, on our front porch, underneath the icicle lights we hung today to mark the official beginning of Christmas Season at our house.  It's unseasonably warm, as is has been as of late, but the wind is gusting ahead of rain and colder temperatures set to arrive tomorrow.

This morning, we took J.P. to the doctor.  He's been battling a cough for at least a week.  It's worse at night  and it breaks my heart when he wakes up coughing and crying.  It makes me feel like I'm failing him somehow, because I can't make him feel better.  This morning, early, he looked up at me, crying, and said, "Daddy, why can't stop coughing."  I could hear my heart breaking.  Audibly.

Jude's sick with a cold, too, which doesn't help matters.  I feel terrible for her, too, because she can't really take any medicine (not that she would anyway) since she's pregnant.  I can't imagine anything more uncomfortable than being six months pregnant and having a sore throat and runny nose.  Still, she fights through it because that's just her nature.  Impervious to that which would cause the rest of us to complain.

Our doctor prescribed some cough medicine for J.P., but when we read the fine print on the prescription (warnings, possible side effects, etc.) we got scared and gave him a teaspoon of the over-the-counter cough medicine we've tried before.  I hope he sleeps a little better tonight.

Ever since he started school this fall, it seems like he's had one cold after another.  From what I read, that's normal, as he's exposed to other children (and their germs) on a daily basis.  When he was with our nanny, Carley, every day, he wasn't around other children regularly and, consequently, he never got sick.  Hopefully, he'll build up his immunities and when he starts kindergarten in two or three years, he won't have to deal with this anymore.  That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.

That kind of brings me around to the point of this post.  Three years ago today, my longtime friend, Benton, lost his daughter, Elizabeth, to an insidious disease after a relatively brief two week illness.  Elizabeth was a  senior in high school with her life ahead of her.  She was athletic, smart, funny and extremely popular, just like her father and mother.  She also was an only child.  She was her mother's best friend.  Her death wrecked Benton and Carrie.  They've persevered but I know they're struggling this weekend.

They're in my thoughts and prayers often, but especially this weekend.  Thanksgiving weekend.  My son is sick with a cold and I'm sick with worry.  In the scheme of things, as I think about Benton and Carrie and what they have been through and are going through, my worries seem rather insignificant.

Rest in Peace, Elizabeth, and know you are loved and remembered today and always.