One time in university I got a nasty stomach virus and, after days of weakness and eating jello, I finally ventured outside to walk to school. I was so weak that half way there I had to stop and lean against a tree to rest. That tree was so solid and so there. That was the first time in my life that I realized how important it is to have something (and of course, more importantly) someone to lean on. I also realized how important it is to lean. Sometimes I forget, but the tree makes me remember.
I won't visit you this month. You won't call. I will raid your garden and you won't get any of the vegetables. I will make plans without telling you about them. We'll go to the store and not buy you one single thing. Whole books will be read and I will not tell you which ones. I will watch movies and not inform you. The nasturiums will ripen. Last month was different. I changed my schedule and took time off work to be with you. I dropped all kinds of plans for us to be together. You sent me messages, I received them. I picked up food that I thought you would like at the store and sent you pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. I sang with you. We watched the Great Canadian Baking Show. You chose the recipe for the garlic scape pesto and gave me instructions for making the gooseberry jam. I am in August without you. You are in July.
Comments
Post a Comment