I Touched You for Only a Fortnight
I was outside with Belly and Magic. Just on the balcony. Looking over at where I used to feed the street kids.
Mom loves a big gray and white fluff ball of a dog here. I used to see her walking her daddy at 6 a.m. over there by the dog walk. Her name is Rosie.
Mom asked me to try to get her a pic of Rosie.
Meanwhile my kids were fascinated with a butterfly who was hanging around.
I’ve had a dragonfly show up for the past several years around dates that we associate with my Kadie. So … was the butterfly Cocoa?
As I tried to sneak pics of Rosie, Mom said this butterfly was weaving around my calves and ankles. Did I not feel it?
I really didn’t. But I was staying still so Cocoa the Butterfly would stay on the porch with us for as long as she wanted.
I wouldn’t have known about that visitation without my momma. I would have never let the kids out because Belly is always trying to run off the balcony and it’s exhausting trying to pull her back by her hind legs every damn time.
That’s one of my regrets, that I didn’t let Cocoa out because her siblings are assholes. She was SO good.
And now she can go wherever she wants, whenever.
I realize how much I’ve had to give up this year. My baby. My outside babies. All my podcasts, witchy and political, too. Trying to keep what’s left of my mental bandwidth focused on work and health and mental health.
The things I’ve had to pick up in their places have not been worth it. At all. Not one bit.
Thank you for visiting, Cokes. Momma loves you more than anything, and always will.