Heal

Happy two year belated birthday, Ellie. I'm sorry it took me this long to be able to write it.

My cheeks are wet. My face burns both from the stress of the afternoon and the embarrassment that I feel. Overall, it is an uncomfortable feeling, yet at the same time, I feel relief. As we sit in the car, the heat that had been trapped in the car envelops us, soothing us like a familiar blanket.
The children are still inside for class. The teachers don’t bother us, and for a moment, nothing stirs but a few stray leaves on the pavement as the light breeze pushed them along. “I’m sorry,” my mother says after a long silence. It is almost dreamlike. I know she doesn’t realize what a large role she has played in causing this series of events; The apologies she offers are only condolences. Still, the phrase is nearly mistifying, and I appreciate the gesture. She’s offering, in these two words, to help me. Perhaps now I can learn to heal.