A boy in our lives, briefly.
A sweaty energetic thirst
for everything at once.
Nine years of bright eyes
and excitement in the moment.
A boy with new intentions
suspended over mind and body.
Messy, with coke and candy
rings around his mouth.
Dirty hands reach into the
potato chip bag.
He laughs infectiously
and we laugh because he does.
He says, “Yes Mam” and
in the next breath tells me
I look sick.
I am “sick” because it is seven a.m.,
my bones hurt and he is here.
But he is here with a joy that grabs
my pain and makes me forget.
My husband plays basketball
with him and video games.
Buys him ice cream and a balloon hat.
And the two of them watch pictures
slide out of a photo booth.
Pictures that preserve time together.
A string of photos to look at
before he leaves once again.
A nephew who delights and disappears
with his military family
for years, in a far-away place.
So bittersweet, Janet - I have so missed your artist's poetic canvas and vivid life-captures. You have a gift of colourful evocation and also the capture of the essence of personality, too. Can relate to the therapeutic and analgesic effects of the unconscious love, care and giving of others who notice us when our life-force is low and sow precious gifts back to us to restore the balance. Precious write, precious family, precious time: how our wealth is measured in such freely-bestowed gifts of life when the chips are down. Keep me posted as to your surgical procedures, won't you?! There will be some form of redemption as you keep trusting, I am sure. LOL Kate xx
Oh, Janet. I'm just so thrilled you posted this. I grew up a military kid and we were away for years at a time. Just today, though, I was thinking how lucky we were having aunts and uncles and grandparents who would be waiting whenever we could come "home" to visit. Thanks so much, from me and on behalf of your Andrew. Dawn
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