Here, in this season of quarantine and uncertainty, many priorities shift, also gratitude for what normally would go unnoticed. Of course those on the frontlines such as First Responders and Medical personnel, but also those who are keeping our food and supplies distributed and those who are servicing as we buy those essential items, but their importance should remain such long after this becomes hindsight. Appreciation for just everyday things and everyday people now unable to continue everyday routines as before, and may we learn the lessons this simple living is teaching us.
I digress.
Also poignant is the fact that humans are rediscovering humans. Interaction once taken for granted is now craved and touch almost nil as we keep a social distance. We are spending more time alone and rediscovering our own self. Loneliness falls. So, let me say and may you hear and believe: You matter. You are important. You are loved. God is with you.
Without further adieu, I give you my Auntie:
"Many years ago, as I sketched this poem, I pondered the importance of each and how they may feel. Of course, the list is long. It came to me after receiving a message of "It's just me" from my Mother. "Just you?!" I replied. And then, I kept thinking of those words from a person so loved, did she feel 'insignificant'? And yes, we can.
Oh, if it helps someone on your blog, compose it in your 'style" and use. Don't add my name, as it surely is not a copyrighted poem!!! "Just a scratch of thought"...Make it significant for your usage if you so desire. I surely don't mind. I think many persons should realize how strong these words can affect themselves and their perspective of how they feel as a person, or professional, or invalid. Must be the word JUST that is the focal point in our language."
It's just me
three little words, flowing effortlessly with each utterance.
It's just me
As Mother gently pulls the covers over the drowsy child.
It's just me
Daughter's sweet voice over the phone.
It's just me
Calls the housekeeper reaching for the broom.
It's just me
As service worker reads the meter.
It's just me
As loved one opens the door, home at last.
It's just me
As little one plays "Peek-a-boo"
It's just me
Whispers the Nurse silenting entering the room.
"It's just me"
These precious words tell me "Who I Am"
