I Sat There in my Car

I don’t even recall what triggered the initial thoughts about my wife, but by the time I pulled up to my house and sat waiting for the automatic door opener to pull the door high enough that I might enter the garage, I had been thinking for a while.  Back beyond the disease.  Past the walkers and the wheelchairs.  Beyond what she called the “big numb.”

I thought about how together we hiked the high mountains all around me.  I could hear her footsteps behind me.  She could jump then.  She could run.

When the door finally pulled fully open, I remained sitting there in my car.

I just sat there for a very long time with my foot firmly on the brake and chill air from the vents blowing across my arms and face.

Sometimes, I don’t want to finish going home.

--Mitchell Hegman