As I hug my grandma goodbye, we go through our usual exchange. “I love you.” “I love you more.” “I love you most.” “I've loved you longer!” Until it's my turn. I usually give in and concede, but today my lips let slip the thoughts my brain circles around, especially as I feel her shrinking frame in my arms. “Someday I'll love you longer.” I pull away from her and her face mirrors what I'm sure mine expresses: shock, a cold slap to the face, sadness, and fear. I've spoken out loud what shouldn't be said. Truth ruins the moment.
Mercedes Lubbers is a continual learner, inconsistent writer, and cat "mom" to three.