This morning the sky was my favorite
shades of blue. Alternating dark blue and florescent blue; so bright in places
it punches your eyes awake. Clouds passing over the moon like a warning in a
poorly-written novel. We talk, the three of us and our scroungy pup, of the
day. We talk of the possibilities beholden in the beginning of anything - and I
am feeling confident. As we pass the
double rod-iron gate it swings open, and a car pulls up. We hear crying.
Sobbing. Grief? Lament? We do not know,
but this woman is in deep pain and shaken to the core. It’s the kind of utter sadness
that immediately infects those around it, enveloping them in the early morning
darkness that just held promises moment ago. It strikes me that such an event is
the way of life, a gate swings open and brings hope; that same gate closes to
trap another in despair. I hope she is okay; perhaps her driving up the steep
hill means there is hope in ascension. Or maybe she’s just going home…
I kiss my daughter on the forehead, my
son on the cheek. He won’t let me kiss his lips anymore. One day he will cry
this way, but today is not that day.
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