Sandwiched
you kiss your family and friends good-bye
and put miles (a continent – my words added) between you,
but at the same time
you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach,
because
you do not just live in a world
but a world lives in you.
(frederick buechner)
the message reads: he’s in a lot of pain and growing weaker
she asks about the welfare of ‘my little ones’ (25 and 20 years old)
they moved to another town
brewing silence from one
he left his lazy-boy-chair for his terminally ill brother
she has multiple sclerosis; he’s going for tests for the liver and the little one of seven has a tired kidney
they just separated
there’s no water, no electricity
the voice breathes weariness because of caring
she struggles to make ends meet and still have a life
crying, when in her arms, for a moment she held the three day old baby of a complete stranger. this frail little lady nearing the end of her journey. my mother. like a prophetess called anna, ages ago in a jewish temple. anticipating Life and recognising Hope. our Hope.
