Take a Right

Herself speaks.

This weekend, I traveled up to Offspring the Third's college town to help him clean out his four-months-vacant-because-of-pandemic apartment, and prepare for the new school year. He is quite happy to be back in his own space with his kitties. It's a cozy spot that has everything he needs. 

Normally I am excited and happy for him at the beginning of each semester; this was the first time in several years that, upon leaving him, I was grief-stricken. The world is in upheaval now, and we are surrounded by people who eschew masks and safety precautions and put us all -- and especially him -- at risk. What if COVID strikes? I cannot even imagine. He will not fare well, and I may not be able to help him without getting sick myself. 

I want so much for his health and happiness. I am bereft at the thought of him so far away and at the realization that he is on his own more than he realizes. 

It was a long and very quiet drive home. My one small gratitude during the trip was for the household that has installed a set of large colorful chickens -- and a newly added dinosaur -- in their front yard, which serves as a signpost for a particular, well-hidden right turn. This small, yet meaningful, display gives me hope that not all people are awful, and that perhaps, if we are very lucky, we will be able to count a little on the acts of strangers to get us through this pandemic, and beyond.