Stain-glass Eyes

    "Behind the Walls"  Sculpture at University of Michigan Cut back Divide Eliminate It can’t be so dire. But it is. We sit, drained from this pandemic. Each decide 1) Worth a risk? 2) Is it a risk? 3) Am I responsible? Our losses built up inside and out. Do we keep track or stay on track? I want I need I becomes we. We've had to think selfishly, selflessly and consider what's best for us, for others. Long term Short term This moment Acknowledge our  necessary  fears, worries and hesitations. We're human. Rethink Cancel   Stay put Ground ourselves, step back over and over. Quick dance of endurance. Nourish Replenish Bodies and minds Love when we can. Find ways to live each day. Gratitude Solitude Fortitude May you find hope in your isolation. May you fear less and hope more. May the hilly road become easier to climb. May you and yours thrive in the New Year. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqhYFxRiLsU .    Quick step video  

Geri is a small, ninety-five-year-old African American. She lives down the hill from me. She has a narrow-roofed porch where she sits when the weather isn't too awful. The porch sits behind two tall cedars so I have to peek around in order to see if she’s out. Sometimes I’ll see her in her brown, plastic chair. Always she greets me with her genuine smile. Once in awhile I see her kids and grandkids bringing her groceries or coming to visit. This summer was the first time I saw her with her great-grandson (who is four).   She told me his name is Jesse. She has him help her pull weeds or he’s on her shaded porch playing with toys. He hums or chatters while she sits in her chair listening to him.   “He makes me laugh,” she told me. One day, a few weeks ago, as I passed by, I saw her in her chair so I stopped to say hi and let her know how glad I was to see her outside even though it was getting cooler. She told me she loves to be outside in the mornings, especially.   I reminded her o