Wild Mountain Time

Once, at your request, I believe, he wrote me a poeme beginning and about how welcome I was without warning or expectation, how I arrived and left not always predictably, but with gratitude he waited. Phalanges be still, tarsals be still, metatarsals be still: there was a place where I was always welcomed, and where that welcome is always clear, what a gift of grace.

And not just for me. You and Dr. “C” made a school where our faces literally papered the walls and there was a song for every thirsty heart. It sounds idyllic and fellow parents do not believe, but I was there. We all were loved. Even Kruger, even Piffle, even me, performing Juliet and repeatedly spying hosts of golden daffodils. His dark eyes sparkling, leaning back against his chair, Spanish and Scottish and Texan, generations saved by you both. And if this is true, which it is, where have I been?

My explanation, of course, is that I lost touch. I turned my back. I forgot and rationalized it did not matter to you, one daffodil among the thousand nodding heads. I thought I could with effort become someone else. I could, with effort step outside and find the peace of may I please, yes you may thank you somewhere I wasn’t all the things I’d always been. It would have been so clean.

Alas, we are villains, dirty dirty villains, and we leave a trail of blood behind. I am sorry for that. For leaving you both in the past, quiet and still like all the museums we visited. I am sorry for forgetting such hard won lessons. I am so sorry for this loss.

She does not yet know you, a mysterious stranger who sends a present to her daddy’s house each birthday. But she has learned your stories: she tells it to the morning news on the playground, prays that all children have shoes, and esta bandera. We found the wreath I wore at your wedding — such beauty — and yesterday I was glad I called because in the car together at 2 p.m. central we sang o the summertime and I got to say goodbye.

I’ll bring my Lillie soon. Despite all the water long gone, I hope I can still say thank you to your grace still holding space. It’s been too long since I was home.