I Keep Crying in Yoga Class

usually in child’s pose...

because it’s June

so soon, and my mind’s 

still stuck in March

when we four siblings 

last time lived together 

in our family home and 

took it all apart

now, just scratch the surface

and there’s tears

because it sold (what a relief!) and

I can’t stop thinking about the

quick blink of these past 25 years

the house precariously maintained

by Mom, and lucky for us it was enough!

but nothing compared to how Dad loved it

I took for granted his constant house projects 

growing up: Mariner’s game on the radio

interspersed with sound of the circular saw

my childhood disinterest in all his hard work

replaced now by adult understanding and awe

and what would he think of what it became?

these shining hardwood floors, the 

pristinely-pressure washed and

painted decks, the new French doors?

sorrow rising up in me when

I think of golden moments

only realized after they are gone

and pride picturing Dad smiling 

up in heaven, as we cash in his 

house to take care of Mom 😍