My daughter is speculating,
again, about moving away.
Her dream: Hawaii, the beach.
I remember that restlessness,
the lure of the greener other side,
of life suddenly new and exciting,
until the moving van,
the teary farewells, jump
out of the realm of someday
and land on the abrupt road
to real change? to promise?
to the ache of home and who
is left behind? Young, resilient,
she and her husband would adapt.
The kids would, eventually. And I
would just have to add more
family to be lonely for, missing
Friday night sleepovers, Saturday
morning snuggles with Mia,
cheering for Izzy’s volleyball team,
carving pumpkins for Halloween,
Easter egg hunts, pool time,
their once close reach.
I would just have to re-learn
how to let go.