I’m Here

I’m not sure how long it’s been. Feels like forever. The air is damp, dark, muted; I shouldn’t be able to breathe, see or hear. I don’t know who or where I am, yet everything is clear.

Someone is waiting for me.

I rise.

Sunlight glimmers off the water as far as I can see. Salty sea air buffets through me. I listen to my heart, and in its silence I feel a tug. It pulls me to a hazy speck, far on the horizon.

I move.

It’s slow at first, but not hard. My body feels lighter than air, my limbs stronger than ever. Soon, I’m skipping across the waves, flying to the tugging in my heart.

The speck becomes a familiar city. With it come memories. Dad took me fishing.

I was so excited.

Before I know it, I’m navigating the streets. It’s all still too big. But the tugging in my heart grows stronger. I’m going the right way. The streets turn familiar, then comforting.

This is my neighborhood. My home.

I should be excited. I feel I’ve been away too long. Instead, there is only the tugging, growing stronger, stirring my memories.

Mom and dad had a fight before we left. Their worst.

I climb the stairs, knock on the door, let myself in. Mom and grandma are there, weird they didn’t hear me. Mom is talking about picking me up. She seems happy.

My soul sings. I’ve missed her so. Yet my heart doesn’t even skip a beat.

Grandma flinches. “You can’t go on like this, my child.”

Mom’s head drops. “I shouldn’t have let them go together,” she mumbles. “I should have known.”

Grandma looks away. She’s heard the guilt a thousand times. She’s powerless to help.

Our eyes cross. “How did that kitten get in?” she wonders.

Mom looks my way. She freezes with a sob. “They have the same eyes.”

I nuzzle into her open hand and the tugging in my heart stops.

Its absence brings a dull peace over me. Don’t cry, I whisper without words as I let go.

I’m here.