Goodbyes Are Hard

 
I just read Gypsy Mama's post entitled A Quick Crash Course in Surviving Good-bye and it was such good timing, given the fact that we only said goodbye to our precious family and friends mere days ago. 

It's true. Goodbyes are hard. I definitely agree with Gypsy Mama that it's easier to say, "See you next week," instead of "See you next year." (Gotta love Skype.) When we left back in February for our big move to the UK, it was one tearful goodbye after another. I only cried twice this trip--when I watched Page walk to her car, knowing I'd miss the birth of her baby boy and when I happened to be at my friend Ann's house at bedtime and her kids wanted to me to tuck them in. TEARS! Ugh, I have a lump in my throat right now!

If you are new to Gypsy Mama, spend a few minutes on her site. She always has amazing insights and encouragement, that somehow always seems to be right on time.

When Seasons Change

The wild North Sea, so choppy and grey
was tame yesterday, so tame
I saw the Caribbean waters of Isle Mujeres--

silk-smooth sand, quiet lapping licks,
clear salt water, dancing caustic pattern

and the two of us,
now parents, exhausted after three years--
just a season, really--

But a season of hospitalizations and traumas--
a tracheostomy tube for our four-day-old firstborn
a g-tube in his tummy for my milk
a cleft palate repair, and brutal recovery
nursing staff down the hall while we slept
my unplanned, unwanted c-section
my hard-headed will to breast pump his milk.

And the palm-tree breeze of Isle Mujeres,
sifting that stress away like sand,
reconnecting us, resurrecting us.
With our boy, safe
home with grandparents,
his hospitalizations and traumas behind him,
behind us.

This post is linked up at Five Minute Fridays, hosted by Gypsy Mama. 

On Distance

I run
the two miles
to the lighthouse

white and peeled

against the swirled

grey sky 

hovering above the

grey sea churning

I run, sure footed
across the sand

seaweed smell 

and stones smooth

for me to stride over 

past the man

in his heavy coat

and dog, wet

I move fast,

light, like the seagull feather

tumbling on the sand

I chase

the lighthouse crawls closer

the north sea
endless and grey
I run

St. Mary's Lighthouse in far left distance. North Sea.

I am participating in Five Minute Fridays, hosted by Gypsy Mama. This was fun, thanks for the prompt!