4 Haiku on the Issue of Absence

I miss my fam'ly
Each and every day aching
Always wanting time

My daughter's sadness
Makes my chest collapse with doubt
Will she be okay?

And then my husband
Supportive and amazing
Too few our moments

It has an end though
At least, that's what I cling to
And we: unbroken

Nice Day

There are few things better than an impromptu afternoon picnic with your family in the middle of a blissfully beautiful day of sunshine and light breezes and the fresh, optimistic scent of fall.

Childhood memories of pumpkins and apples, fallen leaves and thick sweaters, hayrides and bonfires abound.

Meanwhile, I watch my little bunny cavort among the playground goodies... eager to climb, run, jump, and move with speed throughout her landscape of brightly colored fun. I look at my partner, my husband, my friend and feel so grateful to be joined... to be living this day together and so lucky as to have these moments of time together - all of us as a family.

The water dances, the trees gossip, and the sun reaches down with warm, long fingers to wrap us together at the end of September as we heave a happy sigh.

Poems for Chicago (a kind of cheating entry for a lackluster day)

Friday
Why is it, even in the most
exciting/happy/anticipated
of trips, it still takes a
Herculean effort to
get out the door?
We hit the road,
two hours late
and 48 hours overwhelmed...
but the horizon dances
in pretty colors reminiscent
of Ireland and Cat Stevens
sings us on our way.
We are Chicago bound!

Saturday
This traffic is horrid,
thank goodness we left.
We miss these friends so much;
why did we leave?
These festivals are putrescent;
thank goodness we left.
Oh my lord I miss hanging out,
eating picnics, playing games,
laughing and talking
late into the night...
feeling safe, feeling known,
feeling loved, and realizing
our daughter never falls asleep
to the laugher of her parents
when we are at home.

Sunday
Amazing breakfast
with whiny and overtired baby.
Hard to say good-bye.

Then on to quiet;
White carpeting is not good for children.
The sunroom is GREAT.

Monday
It's always hard to
say goodbye to family.
The drive feels like
pulling paper across
delicate skin or stabbing
gums with toothpicks.
But we see the new mommy,
hold the new niece, and
wish we lived closer to
family, to friends, to
so many loved ones.

Inheritance

What is the legacy left to you by your family? What are the messages and values they passed down to you? Family dinners, tv shows, walks and trips and vacations, jokes and anecdotes, personal stories of triumph and tribulation... were there secret messages? Overt instructions? Did they emphasize hatred, acceptance, or fear?

I've been thinking a lot lately about what my family (its many members on both sides through multiple generations) comminicated to me about who to trust and who to avoid... who to love and who to dismiss... who to honor... what assumptions to make... how to think of myself... how to define other.

We all receive messages - some overt and some covert. Secret missives, clear coaching, winks or nods or soapbox speeches laden with heavy and charged words. And then we go out into the world and begin to pave our individual path with its own tangents and complexities and twinings; we decide which lessons to ignore and which to embrace, which to pass on and which to ensure goes no further. It's an incredible responsibility, and something worth being mindful of.

What did your family teach you? What endures? What persists despite your efforts at eradication? What has been truly left behind?