Dearest (hypothetical) future daughter (or son),
I see it clearly. You and your friends are surfing a more advanced version of the internet that I struggle to understand. You start reading about the 2020 Pandemic. It is part of a history project in grade 4. You joke about people stockpiling toilet paper and cheese (the former likely because of the latter…). You begin giggling amongst yourselves as you read about people Lysol-wiping groceries. You laugh, but we didn’t know then that that was overkill. I assume historians will capture the wildfires, royal abdication, U.S. …
You know that feeling where you want to speak,
But the words you hold feel too heavy to share.
The pieces of you that you could keep
to yourself or just let out
There are some things
you must go through alone
where collaboration is key
What do you do when the line is blurry
When two heads or one feel equal
I tend to ask for what I need
And can go it on my own as well
What about those times when together is possible,
but I truly should be alone?
Or the times when the…
Why am I missing you?
Why do I use these words?
Why not longing, craving, or wanting from afar?
Is it because of the times I don’t cross your path?
Like a bus I didn’t catch
Or a meeting ending just as I arrive
An elegant bird flying off in the periphery
A sock whose match cannot be found
A plane landed without you
Chests and arms un-pressed
The presence of you absent at a table
A whole set of dishes left un-dirtied
The times and places of co-existing together
In moments of joy, communion, & happiness
That don’t happen.
That can’t be found.
Is this the missed in missing?
I and you should’ve been together
But our times are separated,
In places far apart
If only time could bend
And our places were the same
I would just love and not miss you
Now I do both
I don’t have a green thumb. At various stages of my life, I have tried to be a plant mom and failed. I can keep plant babies alive temporarily, but inevitably I have one bad week of unregulated pruning or watering. It stresses them out to the point that they no longer want to be green. Recently, I have found that making it a habit to check on them helps. Who knew? (Today, they look a little wilt-y. But I am trying!)
I’ve noticed it’s also hard to cultivate meaningful conversations with people, too — particularly those I don’t already…
I‘m a writer ✍🏿 & neurobiology Ph.D. candidate 🧠 studying a mechanism behind how we think & behave flexibly. Grateful 🙏🏿 for family, friends, & food ❤️.