Sunday morning.
Deja vu.
Always welcome.
The cosmos, telling me something.
Be here.
The best sleep?
Maybe not for me.
Maybe so for him.
These days of attachment have a shelf life.
I’m wondering who’s holding on more?
Throwing out my anchor.
Staying awhile.
Roll...
Families that roll together, grow together.
Enough...
Sometimes being near each other is enough.
Late Sunday morning...
Late Sunday morning.
Him playing a football game on his iPad.
Me buried in the pantry to get the frame.
Nothing extraordinary.
A quiet, reflective morning.
There’s nothing to see here…
…and yet,
…there’s everything to see here.
I often feel like an outsider...
I often feel like an outsider.
Less than.
Someone that snuck in the back door.
Unworthy to have a seat at the table.
Talked over.
Talked thru.
Dismissed.
Insignificant.
…and then, he reaches for me
And that small gesture
Becomes everything.
