Quietly Writing

 The pandemic. Amiright???

For the last year and a half, people were going through what they were going through. Lives were changed. Loved ones were missed. For many, it happened quietly, as it was behind closed doors.

I am no different of course.

And all along I was quietly writing. 

I thought I might share again.

I mean, I have been getting out and hugging my mom and kissing her sweet lil cheek. Walking in hallways teeming with children. In Target, no mask. 

Why not?

This is what started my journey into the pandemic. The moment I knew that I may need to become a mother of four.

Missnested

I don’t know

at all

how to write 

what I want to say

about you

about what should be

about what is unfamiliar

and what, maybe,

no one else 

understands 

feels

gets.

What I know is

I found you and 

there was a quiet dawning.

I could see and 

I could feel

that there you were

in the wrong nest

falling and flapping.

And so, at first,

I caught you as you fell.

Then, when that wasn’t enough,

I brought you to my tree. 

Finally, because I knew,

I put you in my nest 

and hoped

every day,

and worried

every day,

and loved

every day, 

my sweet blue bird. 

And this is what I wrote the night my eldest daughter and I waited for the little bird to land after a day fraught with emotion.

Waiting

We paced the driveway

Waiting for him to arrive

Phone calls explaining delays

Messages left running hot

Making my insides cold

Just wanting him here

He arrived in a nondescript car

Driven by an apologetic man

And assisted by a forgettable someone

He arrived with ripped garbage bags

And a torn old hamper

And exhaustion

And shame

And sadness

And illness

And loss

And confusion

Without a word

Down the stairs

Everything dropped around his feet

Down on the bed

Every feeling dropped upon him

He fell asleep for a very, very long time.

And then he woke.