“Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great.”
— ROGER DE BUSSY-RABUTIN
I sat in an almost deserted hospital waiting room this morning while my 89 year old mother, who I had not been able to see in person in almost 2 months, had an outpatient procedure. I was distractedly leafing through Facebook, for what else does one do when they are sitting on what feels like several precipices at once, when this picture “memory” popped up. My words from eleven years ago, that were filled with pride at her transition from high school to college, brought a simultaneous jolt of joy and grief to layer on top of the fear for my mother already caught in my throat. My mother, although not really fine, is back in her nursing home and I am left with the ongoing uncertainty of when I’ll see her again. There is no uncertainty as to when I’ll see my daughter again, at least not on this earth. Yet for now, I am off of the precipices and am back home, breathing, and using this ongoing time of isolation to love both of them in my heart and my mind and my soul, and that will have to be enough.