Memory
Last night I was reading my journal from 1979 and I read the account of when my son broke his collar bone in wrestling practice. I remembered most of it accurately but for one outstanding difference.
I came home from school to get the car to Bill to go to work. He met me at the door telling me that Marlin had been hurt at practice and we should go to the school and get him.
He came out to the car with his arm in a sling and looked like he was in a lot of pain. His first words to me were about being hungry and wanting to go home and eat before he saw a doctor.
My memory said that I told him no, that Dr. Butters was already waiting for him at the hospital and we had to go there right away and not keep him waiting. I've been thinking for years that I should have let him eat something first and wishing I had done that instead of worrying about keeping the doctor waiting.
Now I read that what really happened is that we took him home and he called the doctor while I took Bill to work. When I came back to the house, he told me that the doctor was waiting for him at the emergency room and we should go right to the hospital to meet him.
So he did get something to eat first. Somehow, it eases my mind to find that he did get to eat something before he went to the doctor. I know now how hungry he was all the time he was wrestling because his coach wanted him to wrestle at a weight that was below his natural weight. The only way to do it was to be hungry all the time.
How could I remember it wrong for many years? Perhaps it was because I didn't go into the house with him and didn't actually see him eat something. I'm glad I wrote about it in my journal. Now I can forgive myself for not letting him eat. I really did let him eat. I wonder what else I hold against myself falsely.
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