Day 47. 10 small moments

1. She comes in and settles next to me at 2:00AM. I am now wide awake and the thoughts rush in. It’s more efficient to be open to them, and so I adjust my pillow and focus on breathing.

2. The blaring alarm jolts me fully awake. I immediately text him since I know he’s up and downstairs and working and building and cooking and emailing and creating and doing all sorts of other ambitious activities only early morning people can do before 6:00AM. I put a pillow over my face but then she yanks, even this, away.

3. Snow. a lot of it.

4. My second breakfast are two persimmons. She gave them to me knowing that I take great pleasure in the ritual of peeling, cutting and savoring my second most favorite fruit every November.

5.  I put her on speaker phone while she helps me fill out my family medical history questionnaire. It’s one of those small moments that I’m reminded what an uphill battle genetics can be. 

6.  A perfectly ripe persimmon is also one of my favorite colors. I focus on the narrow spectrum of its color while she continues the long list of all of their combined ailments and past procedures.

7.  I drive slooooooowly to the airport because the plows aren’t out yet, and everyone is unbelieving and cautious.

8. After my determined hunt for an outlet at the gate, I plug in and become one of them: All of our wires connect us to a tall charging obelisk, and we look like the prey of a modern tech sea creature.

9. Dinner at the bar by myself in a busy restaurant in a strange city. I force myself not to look at my phone by observing the details around me. It takes a moment for me to shift to embrace being comfortable with the uncomfortable.

10. The hotel room is clean, blissfully quiet and anonymous. I empty my thoughts and focus on the days ahead.