Reality
is sitting in the window
and losing myself
it everything that isn’t here
Missing
the sound of laughter
the smell of sweat
after a long walk
even a slow one
when it’s ninety five degrees
the feel of a hug
for no other reason
than because
The talking about
everything
nothing
the way the windows look in the light
(I need to send you pictures of the windows here
don’t let me forget)

Reality
is coping
with what is here
the changes
that all feel
very much the same
The cold
the wet
The newness
that is incredibly familiar
and yet so different
The helping to grow
helping let go
remembering with laughter and tears
successes small
challenges daily
and the smell of coffee
that fills my mind

Reality
is getting up
every morning
remembering that I am me
and that has to be good enough
that I make people proud
that the people I make proud
matter an awful lot
that friends are friends
no matter what
and not all family is blood

Reality
is the same as every other day
and as new as the tomorrow
that I may never see
it fills me
with hope
fear
and the desire
to live up to
all that I can be