For The Time Being

I send a note to a friend in the midst of her cancer treatments

by Dr. Tommy Prewitt ©

Jackson, Mississippi

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For The Time Being 

I send a note to a friend in the midst of her cancer treatments,
a note of quiet celebration marking that she is
“… halfway home …”
three of six weeks of treatment completed.

I add parenthetically
(parentheses, clever curved creatures,
rarely pointing us toward something unimportant
as they pretend to do, instead
pointing us, in their clever curved way, 
to what is essential,
setting words apart so we can’t not notice them):

(Truth be known, though, you're already home.  
Just in an unfamiliar room for the time being.)

As I type these words, tears arise.
Maybe because of the reminder that we’re all always already home.
Comforting.
Maybe because of the image of an unfamiliar room.
Disconcerting.
But, honestly, the tears arise over the words “for the time being.” 
Yes, the tears arise over the words “for the time being.”

For the time being.
Somewhat absolute, yet not.
Somewhat focused, yet not. 
Somewhat settling, yet not. 

(For the time being.
For the time 
being.
Amen.)


By Ellen Gabardi
June 2026


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Ellen