air

As a child, very young, I was rushed to the hospital with the croup.

As my mother tells it, I was sick and she went in to check on me when I was taking a nap . . . and I was gray.

That was Christmas Eve 1970. I was 18 months old.

I remember it.

I remember being in the hospital on Christmas, opening my presents there.

Even now, from time to time, I still dream of choking. I dream that I have no breath to draw, dream my lungs are being crushed under some unseen hand . . . dream I’ve no air to speak the words in my mouth . . . dream I am gasping for breath…

Even now, I sometimes wake with a hard knot deep in the back of my throat that lingers for hours.