Flood: A Poem and Reflection from Mairead Schutt

The Flood (March 2020)
The bad news pours in and floods the house. 
Three small bodies study the solar system at the dining room table.
It takes Mars 687 days to orbit the sun. Jupiter, 12 years. 
They use coffee filters to paint the planets. 
I tape them up neatly to the sliding glass door. 
They curl up for too many tv shows.
The drains overflow while they nap on the couch.
A soccer field becomes a field hospital.
They don’t talk about the water at their feet.
Photo Credit:  Beatrix Cockroft
Our family feels that we are in triage most days. It is difficult to accomplish very much at this time, and we trying to have grace and patience with ourselves. There is a real sense of loss - loss of physical closeness with friends and grandparents, loss of routine, and loss of freedom. We are just trying to honor that and let the emotions roll in and out. 
There is also more awareness for us. In many ways, last month was the Lent I have always dreamed about (sans the global pandemic). We don't drive much. We putter more. We notice the little things in life that are so nurturing and giving, like the blooms on our cherry tree and the sun in the yard. I am savoring having my kids to myself, sleeping in, and having more time to be present. 
--Mairead Shutt 

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