The Web

She stood at the epicenter of her web. It was not a uniform web, some strands were thicker, and others barely there at all. It was not a large web, but it was far-flung. It was not a complex web, few of the gossamers were interconnected by any other means but the center that bound them.

And she was that center. She spun slowly around to gaze down each strand that branched out from her heart, each ending with a person she loved. At the end of her thickest rope was her mother and her father. There was a thicker rope binding the two of them together. She plucked gently at it, and felt of its immutability. This rope could not be sundered. This rope was the iron-clad anchor.

She spun slightly and slid her fingers along the more elastic band of her sister. More flexible than the anchor rope, but equally stalwart. She let her thoughts weave their way down this band, recalling the times it'd been stretched past endurance, and how it'd never snapped. The same sinewy rope that bound her parents together also connected to this strand. She was positive the quality of that strand was somewhat different, but she could not see that far.

Her husband's fiber was different from the rest of the web in that it did not branch away from her, but wound its way around her. It tethered her as firmly as a delicate chain, fettered her heart possessively, but hampered her movements not at all. This chain was not one of imprisonment but security.

The gossamer that bound her brother to her was much shorter, but sticky. They were not related, but she loved him no less for that.

The strand that bound her stepchild to her was invisible. She never spoke of her love for the child that was not hers, but like the strand, it was no less there for all its repose.

Every fiber forged of love branched thusly from her heart, every person who meant something to her at the end of one of the strands. She felt grateful for the web and everyone who was a part of it and her life, but wistful. Today she wished she could gather all the strands in one hand, and draw them all in. Today she wished the web could be replaced with togetherness.