It's that time of summer when people fret that
it's going to be over soon.
As if we can control time, control the seasons.
Time does pass,
like my sweet Jesse who really was just a baby
but is now a grown woman and a mom herself, with her own girl gearing up for kindergarten.
how did that happen?
something is always over soon
and then there's the next something,
like this moment which is slipping away
as I type these words
and the cicada buzz
one minute you are buggy buddies.
then white-haired cousins leaning in at the funeral.
After the service, we made a lot of noise on E. 43rd Street as flight attendants and pilots spilled out of the hotel next to the old church, climbing into vans headed for the airport...
wooooooo! wooooooo! woooooo!
That's what we do in my family.
We make a joyful noise.
and then laugh at ourselves.
Last night Dad said, I'm splendid!
You need to be patient with yourself.
practice patience with self