Letting Go Only Works When We’ve Held Onto Something

The plane landed safely,

and I arrived as easily a few minutes later.

Feeling all east coast and alone,

while the western sun greeted me

with heat and dust and the familiar

shadows cast at odd angles as it’s

always done in L.A.

***

Vacation completed, check.

Time spent wisely with family

and friends, check.

Heart not broken but badly chipped

by estranged daughter flitting from

one flower to the next — but never mine. Check.

***

The couple's wedding went well. They’re

in love and young and filled with plans

and dreams and children yet to be

in their eyes. A lovely sight. An August

night, all lazy and yet agile enough

to make me smile.

***

Old memories like pavers line the

way. Reminding all that change, like

bright red sunsets is inevitable. Like

moons waning in darkness, never feeling

quite as good as the sun. Liked but not

admired. I arrived safe.

***

Cars on the 405 freeway, metal cells

coursing through the arteries of a big

city — my city for so long now. With

dreams turned into stucco and black

asphalt and towering palm trees bending

in the wind. I am home.

We flew to Boston to attend a nephew’s wedding and ran head-on into so many different emotions. Most good or even great, others — the subtle shredding kind that leaves minute tears on the heart and soul barely noticeable until they begin to heal. Then the burning begins.

At times we resist emotions for we have a sense that “no good” will come from experiencing them. But that’s not true. In the end, whether we allow them entrance or ask that they remain outside of us, doesn’t matter. They’re a part of who we are.