Nathan Lovitt is a junior at PLU majoring in English Writing. He has a passion for all things creative, whether it be on the page or on the stage, and hopes to become a published poet in the future.
Why I’m Afraid of Hardwood Floors
Because cleaning them with wood polish can make you slip and fall. Because not cleaning them well enough can make them dusty and grimy. Because leaks can make them rot and cave in. Because falling on the hardwood floor is already terrifying and painful enough. Because rushing your mother to the hospital in her own car after she slipped and hit her head is like a scene out of a nightmare. Because that nightmare didn’t end, on the road or within the cold, blank walls of the ER. Because you’ll be begging her to hear you, to hang on. Because she didn’t wake up. Because there will be mornings when you’ll wake up on that old hardwood floor. Because you won’t know if your head hurts from falling or from drinking the night before. Because you know the alcohol won’t help but drink anyway. Because you’ll be sitting on that floor in the early hours of the morning. Because you’ll remember your mother. Because you’ll remember how much you loved her. Because you’ll remember how much she loved you. Because you’ll remember what could have been. Because you’ll remember what should have been. Because she should have been in her garden, smiling at the simplicity and beauty of it all. Because she should have been resting on the couch, laughing to herself while watching the TV. Because she should be there when you wake up on the cold, flat floor. Because now you need someone more than you ever have. Because you need a mother’s soft, warm embrace to get through the grief. Because you need to know that everything is going to be okay. Because you need her to tell you, in her gentle voice, that everything is going to be okay.