last night i met a woman, her name is laura. she lay in starched white sheets. the hospital was quiet. she brushed her teeth, with struggle and determination. success in her spit.
i think she was shy. i walked with hesitation into the room. and i didn’t know where to look. oh what a nice photo. oh wow that’s so pretty. oh this oh that. blah blah blah.
a smile plastered, hoping she knew i was just trying to understand.
i felt too outward, too obvious. my cover of trying to pretend it was normal, that i’d seen it all before, was blown.
her name is laura, she has a brain tumour. she has been fighting for four years. and she told us, in minimal words, what we just had to see on her island home.
her eyes did all the smiling and the laughing and the listening. i thought so much that i would cry.
laura and her toothbrush and her stories of kauai.