some memories

my mom called me this afternoon. i know this was at great cost to her, since the price of long distance phone calls is pretty exaggerated in Chile. she was calling to ask about my cold, how i'm taking care of myself, and some recommendations for how to continue doing it.

it was the sweetest thing.

my sweetest memory of childhood illness is not my own. it's my brother's. when he was around 2 and i was around 4, he used to get something everyone referred to as "croupe". he would wake up and with a very deep voice (for a 2 year old) he would say "mama, milk. mama, milk". then we would all go the children's in the middle of the night. i'm not sure what they did to him there. i remember seeing some sort of oxygen tent. i waited in a room with books.

This is us with a nanny, 1978.

i wasn't a very sick kid myself. no bone breaking, no operations, no accidental poisonings that i recall. what i do remember, and i guess kind of miss everytime i'm really ill (which is not very often) is how tender and united my family was. just like my mom calling today.

there's also a different memory that comes to mind, that sort of reflects my favourite moments, of when my family really felt like one. it's hazy because i was very young, but there was a little boy in a playground who had stepped on glass. i don't know who he was, but we took him in our car to the hospital. he sat up front with my mother. his feet were bleeding. it was a very unique moment when letting someone take that special place on her lap was ok.