I didn’t notice it until I pulled up my mask walking past someone.
I looked at my reflection in an advertisement frame remembering when I took it off in the shower.
I saw left over tears gathered on my bottom lashes.
It’s weird to think they stayed there this entire walk.
My grandmother’s in the hospital and she called me today like it was her last time speaking to me.
It was nice knowing you, she said.
Really? Those are your last words to me?
It was nice knowing me?
I can’t help but to laugh.
Oh also, I wish you would’ve went to college.
I think about that often.
Not that I have any intent to, I just imagine my family passing being disappointed I didn’t.
I used to take some kind of pride in that—being their disappointment.
I think it was a part of my rebellion and standing true to what I wanted.
Now that my grandmother speaks like it’s her final words, I think about the things I could do to make her happy.
I think about Ram Dass and how his job was to walk people through dying.
I imagine my grandmother in her hospital bed, thinking about God.
I wonder if when she gets out, and I’m praying she will, will she change her life around?
Will she stay the same or see the beauty in it all?
Will she come to learn of the Universe like I have? Or deeper than I will ever know?
I’m thinking about my grandmother today, on this auspicious day it is.
Listening to the wind,
Peoples pleas for help,
And wishes of good fortune.
Sending you love & light,