The touch of my children

My younger children live in New Zealand and I haven’t been able to travel to see them, or for them to come to Melbourne. I wasn’t able to be present for my daughter’s 16th birthday. While messenger, skype and zoom still connect and provide us with spaces to story, to laugh, and to hear buttery tones and see exploding smiles, I miss their touch, simple as it sounds. I miss their bodies walking, running, jumping in close proximity to mine. Meteors of hopefulness. I miss the star shapes they make on their beds as I turn off their bedroom lights as the night settles in. I miss their little hugs registering as Big Bang overtures.

Truth is, I always miss these things. A black hollow emerges in me each time I have to leave and say goodbye. But there was certainty with when I would see them next: a date and time when they would rush into my arms again, their starry eyes full of the atoms of the beginning of time. That certainty has been lost, for now.

Sean Redmond

Location: Melbourne, Australia

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