Releasing a hug of fear

A tightness is cinching its way around my chest. Laying in a tent, way off the digital grid, an anxious pressure swells around me.

I’m not there.

I can’t get there.

I can’t help him if something happens.

What if something happens?!

I tried to hug my son before leaving on a 5-day trip without cell service, but it didn’t go well. Taking him outside, I picked him up even though he’s plenty large enough to walk on his own. As we left the protective roofline he cried out when raindrops smacked onto his forehead.

“I don’t want to go outside!” he exclaimed.

I told him I brought him out cause I wanted to hug him. But he knew that. He wanted it inside.

I told him I was sorry because I couldn’t tell him that I was scared.

I brought him outside to squeeze him. To grab one more memory of this beautiful boy to keep with me on my journey ahead. I brought him outside so that we could have one more a moment to ourselves. After so many moments to ourselves.

Since the pandemic separated us from typical society there hasn’t been a single day when I was unaware of his whereabouts. Once his school closed it’s been month after month without an extended moment to myself. Months spent playing…