All this going back and forth to Ohio—I’m ready to be done, to go back to a normal routine. I need to eat a salad to make up for all the eating. A run would put some miles between the long drive there and back. Regular stuff like washing my hair and a long bath would help to transition.
Back & forth.
There & back.
What is normal and what is routine about a life now changed, cleaved into separate parts?
Before & after.
I want to go back to before. Before Dad died surrounded by family and before Mom died alone in the hospital. Stop time. Make up for lost time. Rewind.
Here & now.
I’m left with this side, the rest of what is to come.
Forever & ever.