Shelter in Place

Three years, one month, and two days. 

I think all of us can remember the last time we were able to touch another human being. For me, it was my mother. 

I was too afraid to hug her, but I wanted to so much that the tips of my fingers vibrated with anger and sadness and an electric longing. I couldn’t help myself– I had to feel her one last time. My fingers stretched out and cupped her elbow as tears welled up in my eyes. Out of all of the things I wanted to say, the only thing I could muster up without bursting into tears was a soft “Mama…” 

“I know. I know.” She reaches out and grasps my elbow in return, her thumb leaving a comforting path of warmth in every stroke the way the touch of a mother does, but even more so at this moment. “It won’t be for long. I’ll see you in a couple weeks, okay?” 

I nod and wipe my sleeve under my eyes. “Yeah.” I clear my throat and force a smile. “Yeah, you will. I promise.” 

A couple of weeks turned into a couple of months. “Before the end of the year,” the news had predicted optimistically.