annual events become lasts.
Unsuspecting in the middle of things -
a family dinner,
a Christmas celebration -
they become
the last family dinner at Grandma's
The last Christmas with Grandpa micro-managing the decorations
The last time I sat on that old
rocker on the porch listening to stories -
old gossip about people long dead.
In my memory they acquire
a melancholy haze.
Remember when?
Remember?
As a child I never thought I would say goodbye
to these haunts,
to the old basement where cousins
played video games,
dressed up, and
punched lights out.
I never thought the family Christmases would end
or change -
Candy homemade by an aunt
nerf wars in the upstairs bedrooms.
I never thought I would have to say goodbye
to my grandparents
as they slowly deteriorated.
To a child, things are as they always have been
and always will be
But I am no longer a child -
I startle at my reflection
when out of the corner of my eye -
my mother, my grandmother
look back at me.
I have seen more things than I imagined as a child,
met more people,
accomplished much.
I stand on my own two feet now,
no longer needing my mother or father.
I am an adult now
and am suddenly confronted with the thought
that my grandparents will probably never see my children,
their great-grandchildren,
that my grandparents' home will be empty and cold,
the rocker on the porch still and silent.
I am confronted with change I never wanted to see,
the way time keeps slipping away ceaselessly into the past.
I am confronted with lasts.
 |
| Taken Summer of 2010 at my grandparent's house |
