. . . Unto each is given

a finite number of addresses, ditties to dart

the heart to its moments of sorrow and swoon.

The sword's hilt glints, the daffodils bow down,

all is temporary as a perfect haircut, a kitten

in the lap . . .

~ Excerpt from Bronzed, by Dean Young

A walk, early, to the beach, to say goodbye and thank you. Up at 6:00, I go out early. I think I won’t swim, but then, I cannot resist. The placid water of low tide. I anticipate the freeze, but it’s pleasant again. Refreshing and not numbing. My last dip here in this lovely setting. Climb the rocks to depart. A writer from my Play Lab is there on the rocks, and we walk back together. I close the Lab with a last session to have participants share about what the process has been like for them, what they have learned, what they will take with them. We’ve grown close this past week. We hug goodbye. I pack up my room in the townhouse feeling a bit teary. I have had an intimate and powerful and rich week. The sun is out. My car is packed. I drive home, an hour. Unpack everything. The house looks very clean and orderly! Surprise! I greet Charlie. Now I feel Suzi’s absence again. A dog as great as Suzi is a powerful presence in the house. Her goodness is a ghost-like presence. Today I take the time for very very refreshing nap instead of a swim, which would certainly have been refreshing. But the bed claims me for a blissful rest. I get to see the Special One. They all welcome me cheerfully and enthusiastically home. I have been missed in all the good ways. So, I want to go to the market, make dinner, and clean up, and we have the feeling in the family tonight of vacation, although it’s not vacation. But the summer night, the ride for ice cream with the top down, the camaraderie, the music blasting, the wind blowing our hair, it’s a time for relaxation and connection and fun.