Driving down the other freeway, the one I hate.
Work pounding at my brain, it’s no wonder I’m confused.
Everybody wants something, nobody gets it. “Meetings, deadlines, contracts all breached”, she said.
I feel a need to respond to everything, I feel like I’m letting balls drop and little things that matter to a world much bigger than me, slip away.
The subtle, swarming undercurrent that beats beneath my heart that says “your mother is dying, why are you not there?”
The gentle, teeming vibration that tells me “your daughter is growing up, what are you missing out on today?”
Pulled in seven directions, I don’t know where to start.
We’re talking in the car, I’m fiddling around trying to find that essential piece of paper that holds the answer to the question I need to answer today, to qualify where I am, who I am, what I am, to the world beyond my front door.
As I grasp it, my phone rings and I scramble.
It’s you. I blurt my worries out, my disappointments, my giggles of the day.
It’s you that calms me. It’s you that takes my hand and helps me take control.
It’s you that helps me.
It’s you, that always-constant, never-intruding, you.
When I woke up this morning, after a night of never-ending text messages, a day of loudness and talking and trying to get and keep a grip on things that mostly seem beyond my control…
When I woke up this morning, you were there. In your sleepiness last night, you told me you loved me, kissed me and I forgot about the roar of the day.
It’s you that holds my hand, and makes it okay.