First day back
Jones walks by the bedroom swinging his arms in long, exaggerated motion.
He looks at me from beneath the big, bulging sweater he’s wearing.
Frowning.
His brow furrowed.
“I’m an evil gorilla.”
Rachelle is in the backyard. The wind blows lightly through the trees and maple keys fall in the sun. They’re spinning the light, and everything is golden green. Rachelle sweeps them into a pile which the evil gorilla hits with a plastic bat. And above us there is birdsong. Such a rich variety this morning, each song telling an important and unimaginable story. The squirrels hustle along the hydro wires like they’re on a game show or late for work, and we sip tea as our son eats from a plate of nuts, berries and cheese.
Today, my first out of the hospital, and this is the dream into which I wake.
Our lives, all so small, all so beautiful.
Hope you’re doing OK.