What it looked like and what it felt like were different for everyone. So many people were trying to hold it all together. So he channeled a wavelength to bridge the gap. He did what he could, where he could, however he could, whenever he could…realizing that while it was never enough and could possibly fry his own circuitry, it was what he was wired to do.
The Sunday after Thanksgiving...
The Sunday after Thanksgiving he took her back to Boston. Every now and again, he’d steal a glance of her sleeping peacefully alongside. They arrived just before noon, unpacked her things, then went for pho and mango smoothies and he said ‘This might be our thing’ and she smiled and he smiled. When he dropped her off it was raining, so their tears blended in. They hugged as cars whooshed by. ‘See you in a couple of weeks’ he said. ‘See you in a couple of weeks’ she echoed. They hugged again, then she walked inside and he drove back to Baltimore.
Eye of the storm...
Resourceful...
A few more minutes...
On a quiet Thanksgiving morning, his bladder nudged him awake. He had fallen asleep alongside his youngest son, so it took him a few seconds to get his bearings as the alarm clock came into focus. 5AM. He pulled the blankets close as he arched his back, pushing his backside against the heavy breather next to him, milking a few more minutes of the warmth there.