A New Normal

I remember that night as if it were yesterday. I remember that the living room light in the apartment was off, but the kitchen light was on. I remember I was wearing an old EFY T-shirt with pink cotton pajama bottoms. I remember that whole day was a good one, a great one even- we had had dinner with an amazing family and had a great spiritual lesson. We were on a spiritual high from the day, excited and ready for our break the next day, excited to be able to check our emails, excited to talk to our families. I remember kneeling next to my bed, saying my night prayers. I remember saying, “Please bless Mom, Dad, Keegan and Liam at home. I’m grateful to be able to talk to them tomorrow.” I remember the knock at the door right at the end of my prayer. Confusion seemed to buzz throughout the apartment as the six of us girls poked our heads out of rooms, wondering, “Who is knocking at 10:30 at night?” I remember seeing my mission president and his wife, their faces sad, scared,

              His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he smiled at me, exposing his teeth that had begun to cut through his gums before he rams his toy into his mouth. As I look into his eyes, I see my reflection as if I was looking into a clear blue lake. I stroke his head, reminding myself that this was good and that it was ok if it hurt. The nurse takes out some needles and gloves before saying, “Ok, I just need to make sure that he is laying down. The shots will be in his legs.” With that, I lay my son back. All the while, he continues smiling, looking up at me—I am his familiar. I am the one he counts on. I am the one that can help him when he is scared. He trusts me.               The nurse snaps her gloves onto her hands, then takes out the needles. She already has the band aids ready. “This will just be really quick,” she says before placing one needle into my son’s chubby thigh.               As she does so, I watch his eyes. At first, they widen, shocked and unsure ab