JOY

Dear Lorenzo,

"I'm skipping my workout tomorrow." 

My proclamation fell upon your daughter's back as she sat inside of her closet, doing something I cared too little to investigate.

"It's about time" was your daughter's reply, not bothering to stop whatever the hell she was doing to look up at me.

"Since tomorrow's going to be such a long day, with me working 8-5 and taking a two-hour break to take you to the doctor's, and oh God, the car ride..." I trailed off, already feeling queasy at the thought of another nausea-inducing sojourn.  

"Well good for you" Amira answered (patronizingly, I might add).

And with that, I turned on my heel, and began the walk back to my bedroom, when I stopped mid-stride to stare in mock anguish at my elliptical machine.

"Even though I try, I can't let go..." I sang, belting out the only Mariah Carey song I really love, much to Amira's great horror.

"Oh my God, BYE!" she shouted, jumping up from her closet at last, flying past me to the front door, and hurrying up the stairs to Nita's house.

"Come on, babe, sing it with me, we can film ourselves and put it on Tik Tok!" 

"OH MY GOD!!!!!!" she shouted down the stairs, before slamming her grandmother's door to keep my voice from antagonizing her further.

"I had no idea it'd be this much fun to have an easily embarrassed pre-teen" I said aloud, snickering gleefully.

And then it hit me.

This is joy.

My first moment of pure, unfiltered, unmitigated joy.

I am happy.

These days, despite the lockdown and uncertainty, the social distancing and heavy sense of isolation...

For the most part

I am happy. 

I really am getting better.

I'm healing.

And starting to have plans for my future again.