I’m still processing the fact that as of some time next month or so, my son will be moving far away, and so will my main reason for living in TN.  Also, my grandkids will no longer be accessible even a few times a year.  I guess they’ll just have to remember me in younger, happier times.

The year-long pandemic separation inadvertently helped prepare me for the loss, but at the same time robbed me of even more time we had left.  Since TN is in no hurry to provide us with the vaccine, I probably won’t even get to see my son off.  I know this time around, following is out of the question.

Of course I don’t blame him; he has his whole life ahead of him, and has every right to pursue it, as I once did.  He certainly doesn’t owe me anything.  I’m just sad, and resigned.

Oh to be a cat, untroubled by human misfortune, just luxuriating in the now.  Or an ephemeral flower, unaware of its transitory moment.  I’m surrounded by role models in nature, but it’s so hard to let go and just be thankful for what I’ve been privileged to experience.  Damn these pesky human hopes and regrets!

I try to keep looking up, but probably lowering one’s sights is a better way to survive.  Maybe that’s why I look for hope in tiny green ephemerals sprouting back to life from cold, hard ground.  Less of a letdown when you’re already down to earth.