This morning she woke and a few seconds later heard the sounds of her son thrashing against the floor. It puzzled her how she always managed to wake right before a seizure. She hurried from the bed and ran to his room down the hall. He was curled up on the carpet, his arms against his chest, his hands bent down. His knees were curled into a fetal position as his body jerked. His breathing came in rapid gasp "Huhhuhhuh." His eyes stared at her but not at her.
She pushed away all the Legos and books so that he would not hurt his body against them. All the while speaking to him even though she knew he couldn't hear her. When the tremors eased a bit, she gathered him into her arms, feeling the last remaining jerks vibrate against her body. His body was heavy and too big for her lap but she held him close. He was her first person, and she loved with the passion that came from him indicating her into motherhood. She had been cradling his body for a long time now.
Now that he was older, he didn't want to hug her as much. She knew it was normal and it didn't hurt her as she had imagined it would. She enjoyed watching him become a man, and his sweetness and openness made up for his pushing away physically. And now that he had seizures, she was once again holding him but sometimes it didn't feel like him she was holding. He started out with those eyes but they did not see her. They were looking out into a world where she could not go, and he could not bring her. He could not even tell a story about that world.
Slowly his limbs began to still, and his eyes began to lose the far away look. He was slowly returning to her. At these times, he drew himself to her body and she held him. For a brief minute, he was once again a baby who needed to be held and soothed. And then he was groggily getting back to his bed and falling to the heavy sleep that followed each episode. Gone to her once again into a world that only he knew.
(No Umberto is not having seizures again).