How long do we have to share a pot of coffee, and look over the hills of wonder?
Can you feel it, when it’s coming? The last smile, or the gentle look of concern that makes your eyes narrow; your brow furrow, just in the middle.
I don’t want to feel it, if that’s how it works.
And I do.
I’ll brace myself for a different kind of life, and let go of you a little bit here, a little bit there.
But, there is no preparing, I know that, too.
No shortcuts, or Get out of This Sad Place cards to be found.
And you’ve taught me how to handle those; I know exactly what you would say.
There’s no running away from time; no hiding like a child under my bed with my eyes shut tight.
But I feel like a child right now, not at all grown.
How do you live in light, when you know the darkness is coming?
And what will happen to me when the path goes black? Will I ever find my way back to a place that is shining?
Today, I can honestly tell you, I don’t know.
I suppose that’s just the wintry winds whining.
How long do I have with you?
I don’t need to know, after all.
I’ll love every piece of you, and I’ll never let go.
-Lisa Heggen Carr