Eleven times in the shelter today.  And I can think of 11 productive things I could have been doing instead.  

My neighbor in the shelter says she takes the bus up north to pick up her grandkids for the weekend, and I am filled with envy.  I have myself laid face down on too many places during a siren to go and pick up my grandkids.  and take them home.  I’m too scared.  And I spend my day calculating the chances of getting bombed.  

My grandkids living abroad invite me to move to their world, but somehow I remain certain that despite its faults and corruption, this place can become the dream I once believed it was.