Better

July 21, 2009

He went to yoga with me last night for the first time. It was the fulfillment of a hospital room promise. "When you're all better, I'll go to yoga with you. We'll have a special day where we go out to eat at your favorite places. I'll even go with you to get a pedicure and a massage. We'll live it up." Those promises, those images, they kept me going. Probably more than he knew. But then again, maybe he did know. Maybe that's why he sat and talked in detail with me about which of my favorite restaurants I'd want to go to. He was guiding me to the place of "better," even though I know he doubted it's existence. It was a game we played. Sometimes all it did was provide entertainment for us. But other times, it was the passage to hope.

On the way home from yoga, the sun had set behind the Tucson Mountains and there was a remaining glow, a muted orange glow. The monsoons hung like heavy drapes across the sky. To my left the San Xavier Mission stood out in its whiteness against the navy storming sky. My heart welled up. Better. All better.