How to Close a Door

The other day I asked a question. The idea was that people would put some thought into the answer. Would want to know who was asking and why. Instead the responses were general and more indicative of individuals who want to give but, not take.

That's how we live. Detached. Everybody is afraid of making actual contact despite the popularity of things like blogs and facebook. The fascination is the anonymity. We want to express and not interact. We want others to speak with us without speaking with them. We want to remain circumferential.

What facebook got right is that we do want to connect with other people. We just want to do it from behind bullet proof glass.

Sleep will come

It used to be that a break was unimaginable.
It used to be that life was too short to waste not spending every moment with the ones you love.
It used to be completely inconceivable that soft singing and humming to nobody would be so irritating.
Now that's not the way.
Now mommy time is something all too well appreciated.
Now I get it.
I get what alone time is really all about.
It used to be that seeing something beautiful was something to be captured to be shared with others.
Now I understand the jealous zeal used to guard the happy place.
Now I get the happy place.
We're going on a pretend adventure.
We're looking for cute creatures in the forests that we can find and nurse back to health.
We're having tickle fights and I know that every second is ticking away and one day I'll be old and one day I'll be gone. And now, I don't care.
I'm ready for the one day when I'll be tired, too.
I understand there's life to live and lots that wants being done.
I haven't left my mark yet and nowhere near being begun.
But, one day I'll be tired.
One day I will sleep.
One day it will end for me and I don't care one bit.

At the end of the visit

The people across the road had the grandparents stay with them this summer. I'm not exactly sure how long they stayed. We didn't pay much attention to them because nobody from that side ever said hello.

Then, one day the kids decided to play together. By necessity we had to become acquainted. Still, the old folks were strange. One day the old lady was outside sweeping the gravel driveway. The asphalt had not even been put down yet.

Today, the girls were playing and that's when we found out that tomorrow is their last day. They're going home to China. We just assumed they lived here. The kids don't really get it. You can tell that for them it won't sink in until they don't see the old folks pattering about in a couple of days.

For us, it will have an impact, too. It will mean that the kids won't be outside as much. It will mean that my girl won't see her friends as much. That's what happens when people get older. You notice them less when they are around and when they are gone they leave this void that never gets filled up again no matter how much you try to move on. Somehow, with each day you know they are gone.

My grandparents are gone in a different way, I know what to expect. My kid is spared that for the moment. The best part of oblivion is truly being able to enjoy today and not care about the next moment, day, week, year. You can't really do that once you know and are old enough to care.

Procrastination

I have to go
I cannot stay
I'll come again another day

Work must be done
And still I stay
I'll do the work another day

A list of things that wait their turn
Unattended on the stand
I've stared at them time and again

The list must wait
I'm too absorbed
To do the things it has been told

The days go by
The dust builds up
The floors so sticky for the fly

The chores will wait
For I must stay
I'll do the tasks another day

Anger

Anger is a fascinating thing.
It is all encompassing. It swallows you whole and sucks hard through a little pit right in the middle of your rib cage.
Heat gathers at your cheek bones and steam rises through the pores on your face and off the sides of your shoulders.
The muscles tighten below your shoulder blades.
It runs down your spine until it reaches your tail bone and wraps around your hips like a lusty lover's hungry hands.
Its fingers dig into you and blood flows through your thighs down to your knees.
The urge to move engulfs you. It emancipates you. It liberates the binds that keep you still.
Your feet find a direction before your mind can stop long enough to determine a path.
You race and repeat the cause in your mind until it stops to matter.
You slow down.
You stop.
You say thanks. It is only when you get angry enough are you able to be completely self-engrossed and not care.
That's when you are reborn and can really appreciate that which surrounds you.
Remorse sets in. Guilt.
Still the silent private pleasure of a deep sigh that would not have happened if you had not lost control remains.
Quietly you turn around and go home.
Home. The place where you started. When you get back all is quiet.
Traces of their fear replaced by gratitude that you have returned.
Anger is rain followed by the calm of a misty gray morning, before the rest of the world woke up.

Cognac and Jasmine

I shouldn't have been drinking
I did it to myself
My throat is dry
I cannot sleep
Nobody else is up
I'm waiting now until the morning
Can't wait to start the day
A few more hours of this torment and then I'll leave my bed
I shouldn't have been drinking
I did it to myself

Follow Along

A scratch
A sniff
A tug
A hug
Jump to the left
Jump to the right
A dance
A flance
A fluke
A look
Jump to the back
Jump to the front
Bend on over
Bend up right