Just in Case
by Eloise Klein Healy
Art by Christoph Black
I had to learn to remember I had always loved you, and something I’ve remembered about you is now about me, too.
The one small line I kept missing I thought my words were fine. The language I was speaking was wrong, but you gave me everything to save me, keep me.
I spoke sideways, hedged my meanings, my brain no longer working. Learning was what I worked with: daily walking, smiling, laughing, trying.
My findable nouns and verbs practiced language to get my “messages.” Walk every day, wake early.
Even what I missed before, I love you still.
Remembering everything more.