Sushi

I was remembering that Friday night.  My friend was in town.  My mom had come over.  We all had plans to go downtown for sushi.  A loves sushi.  And my mom.  And hanging out with my friend.  (Yeah, he’s a dream husband.)  But, this particular Friday, he wasn’t feeling well, just wasn’t up to it.  That was the Friday I became concerned that the lingering cough wasn’t just the result of sleep deprivation due to playing too many videogames . . . and the rest of the story is how the rest of the story goes.  

Sometimes I forget, in the midst of paying bills and cleaning the house, I forget how happy I am and how grateful I am that A is here with me.  So, I called and asked if he wanted to go get sushi.  “Shouldn’t we be saving money?” he asked.  “Yeah,” I said.  “We should.  Let’s do it anyway.”  We did.  It was lovely, both of us smiling and laughing and ignoring everything else.  A’s PICC line neatly tucked away in the armband I knit for him to cover it.

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