I kiss and hug my son every time I see him. My new husband too. The dogs get cuddled and loved up. Petted and exclaimed over.
Today the Lu-ster is laying next to me. Paws crossed daintily. Red collar, license dangling. White with two tan spots. There is a bandaid wrapped around her forearm. Slightly chewed. It covers a skin abrasion she has been gnawing on. She breathes evenly. With an ocassional light snore.
I smile.
Sweetness.
My son lies in the hospital bed. His beautiful olive skin illuminated on the crisp white hospital pillow. Morphine dripping through his arm. He sleeps now. No worries. The operation is minor. I breathe a sigh. Relief.
I look at my new husband and mourn the years that we lost. Grateful for our time now.
This is all I have.
Now.
