The
infants I swaddled in ch. VI recently turned three. Cousins, not twins, they
live blocks from each other and meet regularly for outdoor play. Long before public
health endorsed it, my mantra was Take me outside, with No bad
weather, just bad clothing coming a close second. Like the
proverbial apples, my family shares this mindset, though the
grandchildren are more apt to be climbing the tree than
contemplating their legacy. Counting the candles for their cakes was a tender
reminder that three years have passed since I tiptoed into the bedrooms of the newly born and soon to die.
It's strange
that I now picture Pam outside too. She’s sitting around a campfire with others
loved and recently lost as if the requirement for small backyard visits has
extended beyond the grave; they gather and comfort each other; nod, whisper, squeeze a shoulder or hand. We thought these connections were reserved for the living. Perhaps, like everything else in 2020, we were wrong.
don't assume life starts
with bliss and ends in chaos.
lean in. they are linked.
