My six-year-old granddaughter informs me while we shop, “ The virus is slowly leaving us.”
I breathe deeply.
It has been a whirlwind of emotions since I arrived here to visit.
They have all grown.
I was emotional at first and overwhelmed and jittery. This is normal I tell myself. For an entire year, I have experienced minimal human contact—and now, I’m smothered with kisses, pats, and hugs.
I can barely catch my breath. I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe it has been two years since I last held my granddaughter.
Everything feels surreal.
Things that are the same amaze me and others are frightening—so many changes. It is as if I was lost in time and now suddenly back returned safely home.
Poetry bubbles up and words find me in brief moments of stillness.
Momma, darling, have a little hope.
There are giggles, wiggles, and early-day snuggles,
A sigh, a pause, a breath, another sigh,
Take off the apron and play awhile.
Let’s make it rain and snow and light up the sun and draw rainbows.
Spend some time—slow down here.
The day has come undone and night is near,
Twirling, swirling, spinning fast,
This childhood day was gone in a flash.
Kiss the tears and knees and tender cheeks and whisper words of love.
Momma, darling, the children are asking us to slow down a while and to have a little hope.