After a day of snow squalls,
pink clouds drift across clear blue.
Two miles apart, we see the same sky,
decide the pink is comforting.
We talk about her frail, ailing cat,
family member for fifteen years.
It's the cat that's caused her sadness.
With tears in her voice, she says:
I never thought we'd be here,
in a pandemic.
Me forty. My kids growing up.
My cat dying. My grandparents gone.
My brother in New York City.
But, here we are.
Then she finishes with...
I'll get through it,
it's what a person does.
Sadness overwhelms me.
I can't believe we're here, either.
I can't believe we're here, either.
And I can't even give her a hug.
4 comments:
Very personal, but also very relatable, Marianne. I had a similar conversation with my youngest a few days ago. And that last line. The desire to reach out and simply hug them, knowing that is something we must not do. So difficult and you have captured it with your words. Thank you,
Elizabeth
Thanks, Elizabeth!
Wondering how many children you have.
I think at least 2 daughters!
If we were sitting face to face, I would have asked that ages ago.
Marianne,
I have four children, all grown with kids of their own. Three daughters, and one son.
Elizabeth,
Heartbreaking, Marianne and yet, it is a part of where we are at right now.
Hugs to you and your girls.
Love,
Pammy
Post a Comment