While We Stay Inside

We took for granted many things.

Some we thought we’d never miss.

But now they’re gone, it all feels wrong.

And so, we’ll stay inside.

A cold beer in the driveway with a few neighbors, around the time the sky starts to get dark.

Our children’s t-ball games on weeknights in the park,

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with a stranger, on a bus, that smells like pee.

Fully stocked shelves in stores, where everyone can find the things they need.

We took for granted many things.

Some we thought we’d never miss.

But now they’re gone, it all feels wrong.

And so, we’ll stay inside.

Full pews at church, smiles at the grocery store

and potluck dinners that never end.

Long lines in coffee shops.

Afternoon playdates with best friends.

We took for granted many things.

Some we thought we’d never miss.

But now they’re gone, it all feels wrong.

And so, we’ll stay inside.

Bumping shoulders at the farmers market, with early morning smiles that say “hello”

The neighbor kids’ laughter drifting through an open kitchen window

The roar of the crowd as the buzzer blares and the ball goes through the net!

When my hands smelt of lotion, gluten free flour and dirt from freshly planted flowers

Instead of hand sanitizer, soap and anxiety sweat.

We took for granted many things.

Some we thought we’d never miss.

But now they’re gone, it all feels wrong.

And so, we’ll stay inside.

Traffic jams and crowded, stuffy rooms full of friends on the weekend.

Awkward chatting with strangers at the dog park while our dogs become best friends.

School kids in hallways, lined up in single file.

Campfires on a buggy night with friends you haven’t seen in a while.

We took for granted so many things.

And now they’re all racing through my mind.

So, god, please grant us all the patience and faith

To wait this out inside.

Making Memories

I look forward to the day when I can look back at this and think of it,

no longer in the present tense.

I will dust off these old faded memories, the ones that are so vivid in this moment.

The ones that currently scream into all of my senses, igniting fear and anxiety inside my mind.

Hush. I whisper quietly to my own thoughts as the moon peers through my bedroom curtains.

Its ivory light illuminates my shadowed bedroom.

The bed heaves in rhythm with the dogs breath.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

His slumber is steady – save for the occasional twitch of his paw.

Somewhere a rabbit dashes just beyond his snarling reach.

He does not fear what is happening in the world outside these walls.

He sleeps.

Oh, to have a peaceful mind.

Untroubled by the present, not haunted by the past, not frightened of the path ahead.

Simply living in this moment. Happy to be sleeping on the bed, by the people that he loves.

So the dog is the teacher tonight, the tables have turned and I am the one learning a trick.

To stop the racing cogs and gears of my mind and allow myself to simply be.

To allow myself this stillness, and allow this time of rest.

Like the dog, we will live each day in this house, catching good memories in jars and lining them up on a shelf to look at when the days grow darker.

And when the nights seem longer, we will wait for the sun together.

We will wait and the sun will come, as it always does.

Peaking through the heavy blanket of night like a cool breeze.

And when it does shine again, we will be there together.