Another Emptiness Coming

Standing in front of a sink full of dirty dishes, the overwhelming urge to sob climbs up my back. Now what, indeed.

When we moved back from Kenya, everyone was so happy to see us – relieved that we were finally “safe” – demonstrative with allayment. Yet, we were forced into the labor of sewing together two halves of a heart, one in Kenya and one still at large. We could not join the swell.

It's like that now. How I was missed! Children cling to my neck. Kyle watches me move, his love tracking temperatures and degrees. Oppressive heat and screeching blue jays put on the play of opposites from Vermont. Oh Vermont . . . let me return. Invite me to your home of homes.

Well, the garden grew while I was gone and needs tending. So many weeds in the landscaping but as I look at them, really look at them, I'm like, “why bother?”

The first acorn falling lands in the crack of the deck boards. Another emptiness is coming. Beckett gathers courage for campus. Lexi rehearses her senior recital. My tethers break.

Is there grieving in heaven?