
Sometimes Hope comes wrapped in tan and black fur, with floppy ears, a big lolling tongue, a long wagging tail and the name, Blue.

Sometimes Hope comes wrapped in tan and black fur, with floppy ears, a big lolling tongue, a long wagging tail and the name, Blue.

it is a crazy daisy kind of day
oldest son feverish and flu-ish
husband getting unhooked from 48 hours of chemo around noon
getting groceries in the six o’clock hour
that’s a.m.
I smile as I spy them in the bin
as I round the corner toward produce
the bin where all the half price bouquets go to wait
for the right shopper
the one who stops and takes a look
taking time to admire the varied assortment of grocery store flowers
oodles of crazy daisies
figuring it is $3.49 well spent
they are the first thing I put in my cart
even though they are never on the list
I head home by seven
as the sky begins to brighten
they are arranged in a vase on the kitchen counter
it is a clear vase, but they turn the water purple
I love that
coffee is done brewing
husband is out the door
time to get breakfast
not sure what is after that
sinking into home today
reading my new book from the library
making it up as we go along
yes, it is a crazy daisy kind of day here
Love is saying this morning, “I’ll take the boys to school and then go to Meijer,” because you know I’m trying to finish some artwork for a one day show tomorrow that I’m simultaneously excited, nervous and freaked out about, even though you re-start chemo today and have your own set of nerves about that.
today is the day
that chemo starts again
not for me
for him
I am writing about burnt toast
and brightly colored socks
because it’s easier
to be chatty
about breakfast
and strands of cotton
than the unknown force
that six months of chemo
will be in my husband’s body
we all feel the apprehension
inside this house
we go together
at 12:30 p.m.
today is the day
Ugh.
© Turquoise Tangles