Kerouac on being a working parent after too many snow days and sick days and why is it so hard and yet it’s all okay somehow
Missing a kick
at the icebox door
It closed anyway
It’s only Tuesday? Already, this week is a series of missed kicks. Of everything working out somehow, but having not much to do with me. Or anyone really. That door closes anyway. The bus arrives just on time. The guilt swells then settles.
We walk in kindness, with ease, somehow.
School is closed, but it all works out then it doesn’t then it does again. Somehow.
Sometimes this working parent, separated co-parent, doing all the things life or job or whatever it is we’re doing feels like missing all the kicks.
But we’re okay. Over and over. Somehow. We’re okay.
The door closes anyway.