We’re all in the hospital, torn
Grandma is here, torn away from the thanksgiving dinner she hosts
Dad is here, torn away from his son’s Saturday morning baseball game Nephew is here, torn away from his breakfast as he awaits surgery
We call them ‘Mr.’ or ‘Mrs.’ instead of the loving ‘mom’, ‘dad’, ‘son’
And I feel torn too
Torn away from my grandma’s thanksgiving dinner
Torn away from a nephew’s first steps
Torn away from morning kitchen smells and waking up slow on a rainy morning
Here we all are, a part of this torn tapestry
“I’m still here”
Sewn together in the hospital.
