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Archive for November, 2009

One for Aunt Bridget

Parade of the Present

when we played
my sisters and i
aunt bridget, aunt erin and aunt meghan
(a poem for another day)
i always knew someday
i would share your title
i would be someone’s
aunt bridget

aunt bridget
means moosey pies
and milky bandits
it is the parade of the present
and constant songs and laughter
in the middle
of putting one foot
in front of the other

Aunt Bridget

aunt bridget
means there will always be a hug
there will probably be laughter
sometimes to the point of tears
there will always be tenderness
and silliness and joy
(even when life is really hard)

aunt bridget
means someone to love you
even when you say
(about your little brother)
“if he dies, at least we’ll have the dog”
while she unloads the dishwasher
because she knows
what you don’t know yet
how to love and hope and dream
through adversity

so now i am someone’s
aunt bridget
two little girls far away
talk to me on the phone
make me birthday cards
singing silly songs
and i want to be for them
all that you were (and are) for me
everything wrapped up
in that title
in a shared name
i love you, aunt bridget

Lucy's Aunt Bridget

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Counting

it started before you left this morning
while my arms were still around your neck
and you were still holding me close
and whispering not to be sad
winding up inside me
a lump in my throat
it started really when you got off the plane
and came down the escalator
when the countdown of days then hours
had collapsed into minutes, then seconds
then nothing
and the count began again in my head
how many days then hours then minutes
until you would be gone again
because despite how hard i try to live in the moment
all the moments without you are missing you
and now i add six days to every sign reminding me
how many days left til Christmas
despite the sadness of being apart
despite the longing for your eyes and your voice
together with your arms
this is still a miracle
that i love you this much
that you love me back
that it won’t be like this forever
our time will come
we will get to build the life we dream about
and that started a long time
before you left this morning
before you got on the airplane
(the countdown now is at 54 days)

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Birthday

thirty-two
isn’t a bad number really
twice sixteen
and so much easier
a little more comfortable in my skin
a little more familiar with my own crazy
less often off-kilter
lots of mistakes made often enough
reduced to infrequent lapses
well-chosen friends
interesting acquaintances
more balance, less fence-sitting
curiosity expanded
opinions softened
capacity for loving
for knowing and being known
infinitely greater

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