Archive
04/12/11 - (2)
Adventures
This morning brings the last event of our ten-day adventure. We leave the house early, to pick up snacks for their backpacks, Tacos to be eaten at the airport, before they board — Our two little "grownups," who get to fly, again, by themselves... Leave behind the dismantled fort, the movies, the "what's next?"s.
You and I tell ourselves that Ms. Savvy and Mr. Parker Green Aren't really flying away from us So much as saying their loving, short-lived good-bye-until-Julys, When their parents will send them, once again, To suspend time and spend time with Grandzo and Old D.
Yet we know that reality schedules such bittersweet departures — Our itineraries predestined, unchangeable, necessary — Requires that our charges fly away from our private island, In the provinces of Unadulterated Wonderment and Unconditional Love, Disappear down the endless jet-bridge corridor, into elsewhere.
All we can do is stay seated, by the window at the vacated gate, Watching their plane push away, taxi, take off, rotate, climb. Then, gazing into our silent smiles, we embrace, hold hands, And, with weightless steps, walk back through the airport — Children heading toward the first event of their next adventure.
04/12/11 - (2)
|
|||
|
|||
