#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
“. . . and it came to pass
that we thought things
we hadn’t thought before
and understood things
that couldn’t be said out
loud or even in our quiet
pulpy insides.
We understood
that children sucked life
from their mothers
then led it back in
in mysterious ways. . . ”
Frank wakes up at an ungodly hour––he’s not in bed when I wake at 5:30. He says he is trying to reset his time clock for our trip today. First day of summer! And still, it’s cool as September. I have gotten up early so that I can swim before Wave is awake. And I do. A strong and satisfying mile at the pool. No headache. I’m not tired. Frank is feeding our grandson breakfast when I return and I have a chance to play trains and drums and blocks with him before he leaves with his mother on her way to work. The youngest arrived home in the middle of the night for her trip and I get to see her, briefly, before starting on mine. We talk about her trip and all the goings on at home while I pack. I’m grateful for this briefest time. I embrace the sense of summer, this season officially beginning. Wanting to be awake and aware and appreciative of it for every moment. Then, we are in the car, me and Frank, at the airport with our passports. I get a call from my brother, and my sister. Sad news about my uncle Gerry, beloved husband of my Aunt Susan, my father’s youngest sister who survives him. Sadly, I will miss his service. And then we board the plane for our fresh adventure. Our plane takes us through this night to Zurich; tomorrow, a change of planes to Split, Croatia, a place we are journeying to for the first time. I’m afraid all we’ll see of Zurich is an airport lounge.