MOMENTS MISSED, MOMENTS RECLAIMED

Now that healing is reassembling life into some semblance of its former order, I can glance over my shoulder and re-cherish, re-appreciate what was lost, what was recovered.

It’s all good.

Standing in the kitchen of our 1906-era home I recall the swoosh of the upstairs shower, the way it sounded prior to the months-long affliction that silenced it. Now the swoosh is back. She is back.

Her distant morning sneeze is a comforting signal that she is moving about again, getting done the things that she loves getting done.

Her musical voice via zoom or phone reassures me that her soul is bouncing once more, reanimated by friends and family.

Her rhythmic breathing next to me at night makes up for the weeks we could not share a bed.

The halo fragrance of her morning routines, soap, shampoo, perfume, ointment, settles me down and renews my smile.

Creaking wooden floorboards provide evidence of her presence, mingled with the creaks and croaks emanating from my movements.

And now that she laughs once again at my worn-out quips and jokes, I feel hope and joy once more.

That look she gives me when I’ve gone too far. That look she gives me when I have not gone far enough. These are my anchors.

Let me summarize:

She pulls me toward the light.

What more could I possible wish for

 Jim Reed © 2021 A.D.