On the way to a glamorous cruise departing from Miami Beach, I had a funny feeling in the back of my throat. My partner and I had done our requisite nose swabbing before leaving town and had both tested negative. We were leaving with hope – it had been an unglamorous summer of hip surgery recovery for him — and both of us were due to begin work soon.
Alas, we turned around in Orlando. I had gotten a positive Covid test, this time from a lab, and we stopped once on the way home, where we socially distanced ourselves on a beach. I lay feverish under a multi-colored umbrella.
We were disappointed, but I wouldn’t have changed the summer that showed me how we responded to the reality of our fragile bodies in a fragile world. (And luckily, we rebooked and set sail 10 days later).
What better way to be in love than to be in the real together? Doesn’t love sweeten when you witness how well your beloved responds to the everyday calamities and the big ones?
It's also what love poems are made of.
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