We are weeks into quarantine and global pandemic. You remain unaffected. Joy and love and red hair.
You are 2 years, and 4 months old.
You are at full tilt, running up the hills nearby and then down again. Playing with every stick as a sword and saying, “Come on Mama!” Demanding that I join.
You are my joy. Without you, I wallow. Without you, I sit and I stew and I watch TV and I eat sugar and other poisons not meant for my body.
With you, I run from dragons and eat pancakes and strawberries and I forget about all the pain in the world. You and I just are.
The sun is shining, the trees are in beautiful spring blooms, it feels so strange to see their beauty and the sun in contrast to overrun hospitals, social distancing, and masks.
I find joy here. We are okay. We have food and water and shelter and sun. We have gardens and toys and kisses and chalk.
How are we so lucky? I ask myself. I grieve the life that was, to make way for the new.
simple days with bonnie rae 
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