Pregnant with my first child.
My husband at work in a high rise in downtown L.A.
Unthinkable horror unfolding on my TV screen,
Thundering towers come down.
Real pain, real knowing.
I must accept this.
He might not come home.
One day, my love might go to work and never come home.
Three words from a friend “I am heartbroken.”
My kids safe at school.
“What?” I worriedly text back.
Unthinkable horror.
Again.
Real pain, but refusing to know.
One day, my kids might go to school and never come home?
No!
No.
No.
No.
I think the unthinkable.
I want to unthink the unthinkable.
But I can’t.
So instead . . .
I hug with all my strength,
Feel with my whole being,
Hold on to what matters,
And love them with all my heart,
Because I know.
Someday they might not come home.
