One realizes the many things one had help with,
Like rubbing cream into the dry spot on one’s back, completely out of reach.
Now one takes a bamboo back scratcher and
Covers it with a sock and
Slathers the sock with moisturizer and
Manages the job.
Now one realizes it will be fine if some jars can’t be opened and
Talks to oneself and the cat about many matters and
Works at the skill of cooking for one and
Checks thrice that the doors are locked before retiring and
Stretches out in the bed that has long been a solo operation anyway and
Manages eventually to sleep.
One worries about falling and
Does slow, gentle yoga to get stronger and
Practices balancing on one foot and
Hires help for the snow shoveling and
Discovers the fellow who shovels at the door one cold morning
Hand over heart, asking how one is “holding up.”
Neighbors and friends, too, check in on the “holding up” question
And one realizes that after all it’s a comfort that people care.
One musters the courage to drive everywhere and
Discovers it’s doable after all and
Likes the convenience of driving across town to one’s appointments
Rather than always taking the bus.
One gets the smaller Christmas tree and fewer poinsettias and
Considers procuring smaller ornaments and
Tries not to cry in front of one’s children
Lest they think one is about to crash and burn on this solo flight.
One realizes there is a vast reservoir of strength,
Steely strength
The kind of strength that allows one to push out a baby or two and
Lose a third
And one draws on this strength and remembers to breath and eat and sleep and
Notice the winter sunsets, still glowing and glorious though
One is flying solo.
