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Archive for the ‘celebration’ Category

Don’t Blink

WAIT A MINUTE.
Wasn’t it last week that this was just dirt?
Or 2 weeks ago at most?
And now look.
The sprouts are taking off!

a

My baby is getting married,
the one I had purely for fun.

In the blink of an eye
the time flew.

I think of the little sprouts I hang out with now
and try harder not to blink.

3 days until the wedding.

Thank you for reading. I’ve disabled my comment box for the moment. Please feel free to email me, if you like. It comes right to me and speeds me on to my appointed rounds.
* * *
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A Wedding Approaches

Invitations

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PROOFS ARRIVE IN THE MAIL,
proofs from a photo shoot
at The James,
where they are gathering
stories
of clinical trial participants.

On our last visit
the bike, helmet and a selection of shirts
came along
and, after the appointment,
were allowed out of the car to play.

Proofs arrive
We look them over, make our choice.

And then we put them away.

We are in putting-away mode
this week leading up to the wedding,
clearing the decks,
putting on hold,
switching to OFF
the everyday thoughts and tasks.

Cancer
and paint cans
and garden plans
and worrying about whether there’s enough half-and-half in the house
even while there are no humans here to need it
and we can surely go get some, if needed,
when we return
so STOP fretting about the half-and-half inventory, Marilyn!

Heard this gem a few weeks ago at the CLL Conference, from the Babylonian Talmud, that everything, even a funeral procession, stops to make way for a wedding procession. Seems right to me.

We are making way.
Four days to go.

Thank you for reading. I’ve disabled my comment box for the meantime, but certainly enjoy hearing your thoughts. Please feel free to email me, if you like.

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TODAY I SIT
under her grade school team photo
and prepare to address invitations.
Looking forward.

Oh, there will be
extensive pen wrestling
(until the right one is found)
and practice
on pads of paper off to the side
and then…
…then I’ll fiddle some more
before putting pen to envelope,
holding my breath.


I glance up at the photo,
looking back,
remembering afternoons spent on gymnasium bleachers.
And then I return to task.

All this looking forward and looking back,
it’s all part of the process,
an important part.

All this pen and paper
in a quiet room
at the back of the house
is part of my
rising
and turning
and looking back
and watching for her, looking forward, to appear,
to make the long trip down a short aisle
across all the years that have gone before.

Already for me,
the sounds of that day,
the first chords.
I hear them.

I am savoring every bit of it.

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