She doesn’t get out of bed these days.
These are the days we were told are the most critical, these days, more critical than the days in the future, or those in the past. And yet, these days we can’t help but think of those days, the days that we should have gotten out of bed early, while we still could. The days we could have spent achieving things that are now out of reach, or just going outside and appreciating the fresh air, or telling our friends how special they are, or telling our loved ones that we love them, even though they already know, or jumping and knowing that the risk of falling will be worth it, or running to get somewhere, not because we want to get there any faster, but because it’s nice to be out of breath for a change. These days we think of those days, and we also think of the days that we may never see.
These days we watch the things that we hope will get better, get worse. And the only thing we can do is hope that they get worse slower, so when someone asks us how we’re doing today, all we can say is that we’re worse than yesterday, but not as bad as we’ll be tomorrow. Does that make today a good day?
Today, twenty years ago, my Great grandmother died. We have lit a candle, it’s called a Yahrzeit, the candle burns for 24 hours. Today she is watching over us so today is a good day. These days are the critical ones and today we have an angel watching over us so today will be a good day, today we were strong, today we didn’t cry, today we laughed and sang and joked, and spoke about all the things we’ll do when we can, and we didn’t mention the thing we’re not allowed to talk about once. Today I was strong and I’m proud of myself.
I hope tomorrow will be better.