Francy's New Morning

Someone says: It’s beginning to drizzle. Is drizzle past the point of beginning after one minute or five? After how many raindrops is rain past the point of beginning? Pearls of water trickle down a window; It’s raining.                        Like everyone, we blinked, and our plans were changed. We went from telling our son he could take the train home for spring break to texting him we were on our way to pick him up. New York colleges had closed for the rest of the semester.   When Gene and I drove upstate to New Paltz University, we had no idea Elijah was sick until we called him to tell him we were there.   “He-ll-o.” Elijah’s voice sounded stuffy and sleepy as if he just woke up.   “Are you sick? You sound sick.” We expected him to say no, he just fell asleep for a while. Blame it on dorm life. ...

Andrew, our second oldest, at age three,  when he wore overalls and slept in his racecar bed Let me tell you, this was a dark and stormy night, of another kind.   Sitting across from my three-year-old son at the dinner table, I tilted my head, like our Yorkie when she is trying to understand what we’re saying. “Does Andrew look a little green?” I asked my husband.   He glanced up from his pasta. “He looks fine. If he was sick, he wouldn’t have eaten his dinner.”   The plate still had a mound of squiggly noodles, his favorite. He ate about half.   His five-year-old brother, Stephen, continued his car noises in between mouthfuls. He looked fine. Sounded fine.   “Andrew, do you feel ok?”   “My tummy hurts.” He scrunched his little nose and pushed the plate away as if it were his enemy or a serving of his most hated vegetable, broccoli.   Pale skin with a green hue isn’t cute, especially on a three-year-old. By now I...