Steady Wheel

A week or two ago Amy attributed a good ride, in part, to a steady wheel.
The lowest barometric pressure ever for Minnesota was recorded today. The storm that caused this dramatic drop produced winds in excess of 50 mph. Tree branches littered the paths, and the wind funneling through every open space was like taking a right cross from a pro boxer.
I was out in it. I needed to practice the art of providing a steady wheel. I stayed up. I anticipated the windy blows, bobbed and weaved around the branches, and avoided sliding on slippery wet leaves. 20/15.2
The hospital room was dark keeping things calm so she could rest. Her mom was at the crib side, finger in her baby's 10 month old, clenched, tiny fist. Dad was laying down, eyes closed, but not sleeping. None of them had slept for the last 24 hours. Every whimper was immediately soothed by a caressing hand to her small forehead or chubby cheek.
The doctors said she has a genetic bone disorder. The slightest jolt can cause a bone to break. They found her femur broken and two other fractures in her legs that had already started to heal. The pink cast from the tip of her toes to just above her round little belly was the start to healing the fractures. A steady wheel is needed to navigate through the challenging weather ahead. Ethan, my son, as I was leaving the Gillette Children's Hospital room, said, life is going to be totally different now. I looked at him, right in the eyes, hugged him and told him that I loved him. I didn't see fear or self-pity. I saw acceptance, commitment, understanding, responsibility and above all love for his family....a steady wheel.
This morning my 10 month old grand daughter, Taylor, was diagnosed with osteogenesis imperfecta.