When I wake up in the morning, there’s a note on the dining room table and empty wine bottles scattered on counter tops—the spoils of a late night and friendship.
Four months ago, Jan’s grandmother wasn’t in a hospice with empty eyes. Christine didn’t live an hour away for her new job. Kaya and I took the daily camaraderie for granted. Layoffs were part of our newsroom’s reality, but not yet part of our experience.
And now we have an evening when Jan can put aside the scent of age and death and we tease each other over stout and seafood. We venture the streets of St. Augustine, arms linked. We snap pictures under trees strung with lights. We talk about books, men, and politics. We spill red wine on my beige carpet.
And when I wake up in the morning, there’s a note on the dining room table: Thanks for letting me crash. Got to get home to my son. Love you, Chris.
And when I wake up in the morning, there’s a message from my friend, David, who’d left Seattle to trek through the ruins of Haiti to find his mother: "I first walked right by the house because a good portion of it was totally demolished," he wrote. "The fitness center across the street was also demolished with a really strong smell coming from between the bricks."
"When I asked people if they knew my mom, they shook their heads until I mentioned her by her nickname, Tita. And they were like, 'Oh, yeah,'with joy in their eyes. 'She's right there in the house next door.' I opened the door. Her back was to me. I tapped her on the shoulder. The surprise, the tears, the hug so hard to explain. She squeezed me hard, crazy with joy. She paraded me down the street. 'Meet my son. He came for me,' she said. 'He came for me.' "
Six years ago, we were students plotting world domination; now I’m writing and he’s trekking through Haiti to find his mother. I realize then that this is how lives intertwine: past and present; crises, chaos, miracles, simply love.
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About the author: Kari Cobham is a staff writer for The Daytona Beach News-Journal. She was born and raised in Trinidad. She's still getting over the fact that she writes for a living and that Grissom left CSI. You can find her on Twitter as @KariWrites.