Relief

The tiny house that was full to the brim, bursting to the seams, with the family, the cows, the horses, and chickens. Then sending all the animals back to the barn. Sweet relief.

The list of to dos, that seems to lengthen by the minute and stretches across a page. The gifted day or hour to begin to cross them off. Sweet relief.

The calendar of obligations, deadlines and designated due dates. The enchanting sound of turning over crisp pages of new months, thoroughly blank. Sweet relief.

The tossing and turning, overthinking and stomach churning, of awaiting the news. Then the phone call, the email, the visit, the text. An answer. Sweet relief.

The traffic, the lines, the transit, the layovers, the waiting, the checking in, the checking out. The arrival. Sweet Relief.

The planning and thinking, the imagining and wondering, the doubting and questioning. Then tomorrow becomes today, and begins anew. Sweet relief.

The words that are compiling in the brain, upon emotions that keep piling on the heart, that are ultimately spoken aloud in truth and tears. Sweet relief.

The ideas that keep building, the memories that keep slipping away, creating a frenzy of fog in the brain. And then pen to paper or fingertips to keyboard, and oh, sweet relief.