I heard a story about a man being treated for leprosy. The doctor came in the room, put his hand on his shoulder and the man began to weep profusely. To be touched again, a feeling unexpected, needed and then there it is, what could he do but weep?
I took the blanket out of the basket Betty brought over, fresh from the wash. When I pulled it up and smelled the Downy I had a jewel moment, a true gem. That’s what it felt like to have someone care enough to clean my blanket and make it smell good. To have Snow push my hair out of my face while vomiting was a moment that touched me deeply. When a person grows up with a tyrant, when all they do is survive then the small things people do that others take for granted, make life time memories for us. It was a nice gesture but it was nothing to her, just a toss of liquid in a wash she does all the time.
I’m that stray who is scratched behind the ears by a passerby. Now I believe that scratch means I get to go home and I can belong somewhere.
I want to belong to someone. I don’t ever want to beg for it again.
Sometimes a blanket is just a blanket and a brick wall is just, a brick wall………….
9:39pm EST February 7, 2017