What can YOU say in six sentences?
Poor Chester's toe was amputated because the bone kept swelling and he couldn't walk on it, then the vet said it might be cancer but that he "got it all", which is just one of those things we hope is enough, hope being lighter than faith but of equal value.
I donated blood for a thirty-seven year old father of two because he has cancer, and it was good to see so many lined up for a man few of us knew, then I felt woozy as my pint of crimson O slowly drained from the tiny hole in my arm to a limp plasma-colored bag, as the phlebotomists spoke of the lazy flow with words I briefly took the wrong way, "I think she's going."
My autistic five year-old disappeared upstairs for the longest time, so I peeked in his room and found a "classroom" with Mr. Zebra as teacher, then I remembered being told that I am lucky he can "pretend play" because it shows he has "theory of mind", which means he may one day be able to ask the most unanswerable questions.
This morning Julian was in tears because he wounded his Kermit-the-Frog by putting his green toes inside a box fan; I snipped a loose string and all was well, but it was another hour before my son recovered from the phantom idea of what awful might have been.
My spouse might have taken a small step back from faith since he's reading a book about science proving the existence of God, or maybe he's just looking to prove God to me, but I don't doubt the existence of a greater power, I just don't trust religions that plug holes with silly putty; I'm more inclined to find comfort in science, in quantum physics, which is perhaps a more sterilized form of faith when God is included in the equation.
My dad said he'd love for us to come for a visit, which causes me discomfort like any question I can't answer, a feeling like trying to catch a falling car while baking cookies, or filling a gap of fourteen years with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation; like understanding a hole where love should be.