Leaning In
Sometimes, in the middle of a crowded store on a Saturday afternoon, my husband will rest his hand on my neck, or on the soft flesh belted at my waist, and pull me to him. I understand his question: Why are we so fortunate when all around us, friends are falling prey to divorce and illness? It seems intemperate to celebrate in a more conspicuous way so we just stand there, leaning in to one another, until that moment of sheer blessedness dissolves and our skin, which has been touching, cools and relents, settling back into our separate skeletons as we head toward Housewares to resume our errands. Sue Ellen Thompson