No matter

Children, clients, parishioners, the people in Starbucks. Everyone. 

They arrive, they leave.

No matter your plans for them

They make their own plans

Preparing to go

Ah lethargy.  The daughter is printing pictures on photo paper.  My beloved reads baseball scores.  The cat sleeps on the dining room table.  Me?  I am writing this... dressed and showered and packed. Ready, yet not quite ready, really... not quite ready... to go.

The cat

Lounges

On the dining room table,

A place he is never allowed,

Well,

Almost never.

We have not agreed

What time we will leave,

Each of us

In various stages

Of readiness.

Even the turtle

Has barely made it

Out of his log house.

Kindergarten Wall

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3w5SsgPuCM 

Here it is.

It is difficult to know

What to write today.

Less than 24 hours now.

The cat is sound asleep

On her hair supplies

In the middle

Of the living room floor.

The daughter

Is out to breakfast

With friends.

Yesterday she listened

To John McCutcheon

The Kindergarten Wall

Over and over

At home,

In the car.

We sang the chorus together

On our way

To pick up one last thing

From Marshall’s.

Less than 24 hours now.

The cat is now asleep

Next to the bins

Which will go under her bed.

Stopover

Four days.  As of now, we pack the rental van on Thursday afternoon, leave Friday morning.  Two clients for me this week.  One session of my own.  Therapy is a good thing for everyone.

We are

A few days

From leaving.

She plans a stopover

To see friends,

Now in Iowa City,

Along the way.

When we say

This may mean leaving

A day earlier

She says

No

No

No

Her mind is set

On leaving Friday.

Lilies

Feeling nostalgic and hopeful and still glad to have another week watching the coming and going before the drive to Colorado.

Next to the gold tassel,

The graduation gown

Folded neatly

On the front table,

The glass vase holds

The stem of lilies:

Two white flowers

On their way out;

Two bloomed overnight,

Fragrant;

Two buds still                                

On that same stem,

Their future

Remains unknown.

Baby’s breath pillows

The entire arrangement.

Baby’s breath always

Looks the same

Fresh or dry

Like the pictures

on the family room wall,

Moments captured

In time.

Still

The lilies hold life

Not captured

But released

Into time.

So many ways

I see your Facebook posts, Elizabeth Molitors and Laurie Vanderlei.  Flank steak and matching roommate pillows.  I can't compete.  IKEA makes me dizzy.  Deviled eggs and potato salad are more my speed. Macaroni and cheese later this week.

So many ways

To launch a child:

Pack a van

Cook a favorite meal

Shop IKEA

Look at all the possibilities,

Dizzying

“For-real” dizzying

For this mom.

Dad gets

The next IKEA trip.

Me

I have made deviled eggs

Potato salad

Beets with feta cheese

For dinner.

So many more meals

To come.

Macaroni and cheese

Comes next.

So many ways

To launch a young woman

Cook a meal

Sit in the living room

Watch the comings

And goings

So many ways.

First leg

Yep, she's leaving soon.  All the pieces are being accumulated at home.  Will they fit in the car or do we need to rent a van?  We will accompany her to Colorado.  We will not be the same on the return trip.  But first comes the trip west.

As I contemplate

The trip to Colorado

Two weeks hence

I consider the changes

Facing me

On the return drive

Back through the fields

Of Nebraska,

Of Iowa,

Then back

To the western suburbs

Of Illinois.

I contemplate the changes

I will find.

But first,

First comes the trip

From the western suburbs

Through Iowa,

Then Nebraska,

And finally Colorado,

That first leg

Of the journey.

She sings upstairs

We will miss the singing.  Still, she will arrive to sing again.

This

The summer before she leaves

For college,

She sings upstairs

Before she leaves

For one more week

Of camp,

Only to return again

This Friday

To sing upstairs

And leave

And arrive

To sing again,

And leave

And arrive

And sing.

Things that needed saying

Our daughter is in Oklahoma this week, helping to lead a conference.  She will return and go back to being a camp counselor on Sunday.  More practice in leaving and returning and leaving again.  In September we will drive her to Colorado to begin her freshman year at University of Denver.  I am grateful all three of us visited there before she made her choice.

We knew

When the tour guide

Kindly yet firmly corrected

The young man

Who mispronounced her name;

We knew

When the honors student offered

This college was not her first choice,

But she still loved it here;

We knew

When the mountains rose

In the distance

These were all  things

That needed saying,

And our daughter

Would have another home

Here.

Mackerel sky

Today I drive again.  My first venture was to the doctor to get blood drawn.  Hardly something to look forward to, but still... I traveled alone, listened to my choice of music.  On the way home I saw the mackerel sky.

Today I determine

When I leave,

When I return home.

The car travels the route

I determine.

Overhead the clouds

Proclaim

Mackerel sky

Mirror fish scales

Out of sight

Swimming

Swimming

In lakes and ponds,

Oceans and seas.

Today I swim

Determine the venue

How I will arrive

How I will leave

Road or stream

I see

Mackerel sky

Mackerel sky

The clouds proclaim

Endless possibility.

Stages

Everything is done, one step at a time.  The anteater and me... we are ready to go home.

I complete the next stage

Of leaving:

Pack my suitcase,

Dirty clothes in half,

A range of things

In the other half

Including the anteater.

He often goes with me

On trips.

I almost brought him

To Iona last year.

Anteater packed,

The computer will be the last thing,

Once this is finished.

Now I sit in the hotel room

Writing

The next stage before I leave.

The suitcase waits

At the door,

The anteater safely inside.

We are ready

To go home.

When you told me you might have left

I live with the illusion that I am not easily fazed.  Except it seems I am.  Surprise.  Other people*s decisions affect me.  Surprise.  My decisions affect other people.  All the time.  The door swings both ways.

When you told me

You might have left

Except

Then

You didn*t,

I was surprised,

Even shocked,

At the depth

Of my sadness

Even though

You are still here

For now.

We are not even close friends.

The hinge that links

Our lives

Swings the door this way,

Then that.

Sometimes we don*t see each other

For days.

Still

I was shocked,

Even surprised.

I know the time will come

When I awaken,

Open the front door

For the morning paper,

Find the for sale sign

On your lawn

Swinging in the wind

And me

Shocked and surprised
Sad

Even then.