trying to take my backpack into urgent care

After the third incoming call from my wife, one after the other, I think to myself, “Maybe I should pick this up.”

It turns out our daughter has split her chin open and is bleeding everywhere. My wife says she’ll be to me in about two minutes and could I please come outside and go to the doctor to figure out what to do?

I quickly cycle through the things I need to put down in order to switch gears. It’s just after 4 o’clock on Tuesday, which is my admin day. And as per usual, my appetite for tasks was far greater than what I could actually get through. The hardest thing to put down is all that is left undone.

Nevertheless, I scurry out to the parking lot and hop in the front seat of our van, turning around to see my daughter holding a purple washcloth up to her chin. There are blood stains all over the cloth, and all over her light blue dress that has a screen print of Elsa on it from Disney’s Frozen. We haven’t told her what Frozen is yet, and so no one is singing the song “Let It Go,” which perhaps would’ve been helpful at this moment.

The drive over to Urgent Care is short as I take in the story of what happened. By the time we arrive, I am still holding onto everything I haven’t gotten done during the day. Naturally, then, when I am deciding what to take in with us, I reach toward my backpack with my planner and all my sticky notes full of tasks.

My wife looks at me. “Don’t take that in, honey. She just needs her daddy to be with her.”

I have a private thought in this moment. And it is about all the time spent waiting in situations like these. Which is why I wanted my backpack in the first place. To make use of the waiting periods, because who knows how long they will be? And surely my bleeding daughter will spare me a few moments to check something off my list.

Even though I feel a pull toward my backpack, I know what’s right. I leave it behind, and instead take up my daughter whose chin has been split open and who has also peed her pants again and needs a change.

Note to self: this is the one thing I am called to at this time. And even if there are periods of waiting and silence, it is enough for me to be holding my daughter who is currently in distress.