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Dear Francesca,
I spent the weekend at home with my parents. Mumma came to pick me up, and Daddy brought me back. I can't drive long distances anymore; if I drive for much longer than 20 minutes, my back, pelvis, and hips begin to feel like a rusted iron cage with severe piercing bolts. I am unsure if this pain is endo-related or if it is a co-existing condition. Most of the weekend I spent in the recliner, reading. Mumma and I ventured out Saturday afternoon to "town," a fading community of less than 2000. Many storefronts on the town square are empty. The glass of the windows reflects the bare parking spaces. I poked around in the knicknacks of a variety store and bought a small flowerpot painted with bright flowers. When we returned home, we walked around the yard, Mumma pointing out the plants, flowers and trees she and Daddy have set out. In the front of the house, there is a small rectangular flowerbed. A few red and yellow tulips blazed against the brown soil. I bent down to touch their petals -- so soft. Late this afternoon, Daddy drove me back. Sunlight illuminated blades of grass. Uninterrupted fields undulated in green. Redbud trees lined the roads and fencerows. These gave way to the generic signs for fast foods and gas stations along the interstate, where one town looks the same as the next. I am back to the walls that enclose me inbetween work times. The weekend slips away too quickly. I am back to aloneness, and tomorrow back to work.
Yours,
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