I was in the middle of working a busy apres shift last Saturday and I found out from my mom that my little brother had been very badly hurt. He had been traveling from Palau through to Melbourne then Brisbane via an RV road trip. He got on a skateboard and bombed one of the biggest hills in Brisbane, then got speed wobble and fractured his skull in several places. There's not much certainty in diagnosing traumatic head injuries. My mom had already decided to head to Australia that night. So as the worst possible thoughts went through my head, I chose to go with her.
What struck me while throwing my clothes into a backpack is the contrast between what occupies our minds each day, and what actually matters to us. Everything in life is trivial when people that are close to you are threatened. Despite this being the worst moment I'd ever endured, I've come to appreciate the clarity it provided. I fret about so many things that don't matter.
For now, I'm in Brisbane. Once I've seen Kieran on his way to full recovery, I'll head back home where hopefully there will be a bit of pow left, which once again, doesn't really matter.
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