East

Sitting on a porch. Sun’s out. A gentle breeze. A bird or two chirp. An American flag wisps from a a flower box.

For a moment of peace.

We powered – muddled, crawled, limped – through yesterday. Old friends. Old faces. Another funeral, er, a celebration of life on a green lawn with a view. Old emotions, old memories. A few brave speakers. A few laughs, some stifled tears, some stories told, a lot untold. I guess for the better.

“Remember the time…”

“He’s not here…”

“Have you heard from…”

“What ever happened to…”

“How’s your dad…”

I’ll answer the latter one in a few minutes as I join my sibling pillars to go see Dad. In the hospital with RSV. I hope he can see the sun, I wish he could feel the breeze.