The last official day of our holiday was Sunday.  We had so much fun, it was hard to see it come to end.  We played games, saw movies, went snowshoeing and owling (no owls, but it was still wonderful), and ate lots of good food.  The girls and I made pinecone elves, knitted, and with the help of my Mom, stitched wool bird pillows for their bed.

On Sunday morning, I woke up with the sad realization that it was over and it had gone way too fast.  To dampen my spirits even more, we went about taking down our Christmas tree.  About half way through the job, the kids came running in yelling…. “Emma’s cracked her head open…. Emma’s bleeding bad!”

My husband and I ran through the house to her, and sure enough, right in the middle of her forehead was a fairly large, deep gash.

And since it was a Sunday morning, it was off to the emergency room at Primary Children’s Medical Center for us.

Ten stitches later, I was convinced that I have one tough bird for a daughter.  She didn’t make any sort of fuss or even flinch during the whole process.

As I sat in our little room in the ER, listening to the sounds around me, I began to feel very grateful.  I heard children and babies crying… children and babies who sounded either very hurt or very sick.

Stitches in the forehead aren’t fun, but they are a small “bump” in the road.  And in a strange way, it served as a reminder that life is fragile and precious.  We never know what is around the next corner.  I determined myself, as I sat there in the ER, that in this new year of 2010, I would try to live each day to the fullest.  I would take the time to really appreciate those I loved.  I would be aware of the small graces in my life.

Now, if I could just get her brother to stop teasing Emma that she looks like Frankenstein, we’d be all good.

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