Slate vs. Shale

Shale as I am told by Mr. Webster is a soft, finely stratified sedimentary rock that formed from consolidated mud or clay.  Where as  Slate is a finely grained homogeneous metamorphic rock which is, I've recently learned, derived from shale.  Why? You are asking am I enlightening you with my newly found knowledge of geology?  Well, it seems my weekend was suddenly spun on its axis because of this type of rock.  Shale and slate are both made up of layers which are brittle and fragment easily, and as we found very, very sharp.  If you are a fan of water you may have at one time or another used this type of rock for skipping.  Regardless, this is the purpose for which we were using it.  Boating on the lake this weekend was the perfect way to spend some quality time after having John back from traveling the globe.  We headed out early, found a nice cove, ate lunch, swam played on the shore and were having generally a fabulous time.  When our quiet peaceful day was shattered by Jacks' blood curdling scream.  

If you are a mom, you know what I mean.  There are tears, there is whining and there is even sobbing, but when you hear the scream of blood and pain, you know. At that exact moment your heart skips a beat.  You know without looking,  it is your child in pain.  Your worst fears take over and you are driven by the one goal, helping your child.  The worst part is usually you can do nothing.  Sure you're there to comfort, wipe tears, apply pressure, apply ice but at that moment you know you are absolutely helpless. Fear and adrenaline drive you to seek help, to do what is necessary.  And most of us do.  Tomorrow the guilt and the what ifs' will come.  Today is for the here and the now, this child, this injury.  So, you push on depriving yourself of sleep, food, water and even clothing, for the well being of your child.  Nothing in this world can prepare you for the depth of pain you feel.  Then it seems as quickly as it happened, it's over.  

This all occurred to me as I stood in the ER with Jack for 5 hours on Sunday.  (Stood I might add, freezing in my bathing suit smack dab in the middle of the ER.)  All the while praying, wishing, hoping that I could bare his pain.  Jack suffered a fractured middle finger with partial amputation of the finger tip.  He endured X-ray, poking, peeking, injections, medication and stitches with a brave face.  Never have I seen a braver 9 year old.  He had the courage of a warrior.  Even joking and trying to make ME laugh as he said, "Mom,  I really wanted to spend time with you alone.  But, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."  Today, he is cranky, grouchy, bossy and home safe, where he belongs.  His bone will heal.  His nail will grow back.  The sutures will be removed.  Once again he will be whole. 
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