#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Charles River, from the trestle bridge

Last night after going to bed I got up, hearing a noise in the driveway outside my slightly open bedroom window. There, I saw the stroller and my daughter pushing it. Learned in the morning that she had taken my grandson for a late walk to help him get to sleep. Brittany curled on his lap. Tonight we saw the moon, the filmy moon behind the veil of cloud, he and I, after going out to check the car for a lost toy. “The moon has cheese in it,” he said. “I know.” I walked this morning, with Charlie and then did yard work. Wave joined me. He has a new tool belt he wears around his waist. He used the bucket of his tractor to help me pick up the raked leaves. He now has begun pretending he is Papa. After he moved two buckets of leaves for me he said, “Now I’m going to tennis.” So, he gets it––Papa’s priorities. Then Papa came home from tennis in real life and he and Wave kept working while I went inside to my poem draft and prep for a poetry reading with Lily poets. I have a draft of the poem, and some doubts about it. But the Lily reading was very special, it’s such an honor to read with my fellow Lily poets. All this after attending the (belated) memorial service for my Aunt Susan, my father’s youngest sister, who died earlier this year. Very moving to be with my cousins, nieces, nephews and one uncle. She found true love with her second husband, Gerry, and chose to end medical interventions so she could be with him. And now, I really do trust that they are together again in some way I don’t completely comprehend. I do think we get to be with our loved ones after we’re gone.

Aunt Susan, Uncle Gerry