A Split in the Road

I look at my face in those pictures and see my innocence: How I thought things would stay that way forever, sharing a journey with Etty, sharing our lives.

Then Etty was diagnosed with cancer. Her baby was a few months older than mine and I was the one who weaned her.

Even then, even amidst the fear, the questions, we were still together. But as the years rolled by, I watched Etty’s smiling cheeks grow gaunt, her delicate hands that were once a blur of doing and creating become frail and still. And yet, there was no doubt she would get better.

Only, she didn’t. One day we were together. The next day, in the early spring, she was buried.