Yesterday I lay on my left side
And I watched my bicep.
The muscles were taking turns
Little tiny twitches
To remind me that they were still there.
Yesterday I watched my mother
With a wheelchair almost bigger than her.
She is small but she is mighty.
It is not supposed to be
that the mother takes care
of the daughter
in this way.
Last night Adam took off my right sock.
I spent some time
looking at my big toe.
I still have a mark
from when they razor slipped
the last time I shaved my legs.
Last night I joined an online support group.
And I read some posts.
They were haunting
They were uncomfortable
Words and photos
To remind me that I am part of this community.
This morning I dropped six things.
Within thirty minutes.
The time it takes to put my clothes on.
I dropped my phone
and my brace
and my Chapstick
and my bra
and my glasses
and my shirt.
I picked some of them up with a hanger.
Today I watched the blue jays
In my backyard.
Flying as a couple.
Together for life.
They are an impressive contrast
To the yellow and orange leaves
That stubbornly stick to the pear trees.
Today I couldn't get my brace on.
I got frustrated and threw it across the room.
Except I can't throw anymore.
So it landed three feet away
on the dog
and ran away.
I called after her with apologies
I never intend to hurt those I love.