Palm Sunday
Spy Wednesday
Maundy Thursday
Good Friday
Holy Saturday
Eastertide is almost upon us. The cafe hums. My sanity feels tenuous at best and this, all this reality, seems too much to bear. Things are shaky. I spent some time at the bar yesterday, watching hockey and holding Uly on my lap while we listened to the jukebox and I low-key wept at that goodness. Later, we went home where A made falafel sandwiches and tabouli salad and we ate olives and dolma with our greasy fingers as the world melted outside.
Every day is a question of whether or not things can persist.
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