Ghost Hugs

I ascended the front porch steps and grabbed the science curriculum. I agreed to tutor my fifth grade nephew. His three brothers and he became homeschoolers in August out of necessity not choice. Their mother, my sister-in-law, is chronically ill. Her body may or may not survive the vaccine. Her body can’t risk COVID-19. We haven’t broken bread or played together since January 2020. We haven’t hugged each other since January 2020. We haven’t been in the same room since January 2020. Through the window pane, I saw the youngest’s back. I watched him play. I knocked on the window and waited. He turned around. Eyes big, smiling away all the world’s darkness. We shared ghost hugs, air kisses, pure joy, and love through a window. I climbed into my car full of joy and emotion and fear that the world has already forgotten those still suffering.