Sunday, May 26, 2013

Is there a more beautiful word?
Oh sure, maybe, probably, depending on one's state of mind, one's inclinations but, home is home and it tugs us back as surely as the moon tugs the tides.

We are home.

And the boys and their parents are on their way to their home. Owen cried bitterly when it was time to leave Lloyd. The men had spent a few hours washing the boat and cleaning some fish and doing all the things necessary to do when we get home from the island and he had completely reinstated himself back here. Chickens were fed and dogs were patted and toys were played with and juice was drunk and  he could not understand why everyone couldn't just stay here, keep this party going, as he might say.
Yes, he really says that.
But I let him take a stuffed lizard home and he was satisfied with that and the promise that he could come back soon.
He did as he always does when they leave. He yells out the window at me.
"Mer! Take care of you goats and you chickens!" and then he thinks some more. "And take care of you dogs and Luna!" And then, he remembers one more thing for me to take care of. "And take care of you bluebirds!"
"I will!" I yell after them as they leave the driveway. "I will."

Oh, Owen.

Oh home. Oh peace and chickens and bluebirds and my own bed and these giant trees and a trip to the island done and done and done with the boys and Owen will remember it, surely, and we'll go back. Not tomorrow, as he said we would when we left today, but one of these days.

When we crossed the bay to come home today, it was a fast, easy trip, unlike the one out to the island on Thursday and I held Gibson to me, wrapped in my arms and when Mr. Moon started up going fast, fast, Gibson slumped against me and was completely relaxed, his fat little hands on my arms, his head against my bosom. And there he stayed until we pulled into the marina and I never want to forget that, what it felt like, holding my grandson to me as we crossed the water, the air rushing past us so quickly, the boat skimming over the water, the labial wake we left behind us to dissolve back into the water of the bay, the roar of the motor putting us all into a place of isolation, each of us in perfect freedom to think or create myths or fantasize or make up poetry in our heads as we sped toward shore, as we left behind one world to step firmly onto another, even as we were all in the same world together.

We are all going to sleep good tonight.

I hope you do too.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. So evocative. That boat ride with the baby at your bosom. You put me right there, longing for more.
    Home to the big tree.

  2. Such sweetness, how he wants you to take care of all that is you to him. Loved that boat ride, too.

  3. Welcome home. Good memories were created for all of you this weekend. Sweet Jo

  4. I have been out towing all day with Boat US and am tired as can be. But it was a good day. Glad that you made it back from the island safely.

  5. I'm glad you're home and I'm sure you are too, in a bittersweet way. Owen will remember, I'm sure!

  6. Before I read this, I never would have thought 'labial' could be a lovely word. I could feel that beautiful moment with you.

    I'm so glad you made your memories, and that you're happy to be home.

  7. Deirdre- Yes. Home. With all my memories tucked in my heart.

    Andrea- I know! That boy and how he views me. And I am honored by that view. The Caretaker Of The Bluebirds.

    Sweet Jo- They were indeed.

    Syd- On the crossing over to the island I thought we were going to have to call Tow Boat USA. I swear. Either that or wait for hours for the tide to rise. But somehow, we managed to get free and to the island.
    And I am so grateful we did because sitting on a boat with two little boys for hours did not seem like my idea of a good time. Plus, there was a seagull watching us and he was laughing.

    Steve Reed- Oh, I'm pretty straight-ahead glad to be home. I'm serious.

    Ms. Vesuvius- Girl, Labial can be a beautiful word. And doesn't a boat wake look labial? I have always thought so.

  8. How wise you are to notice these moments, you grandson pressed into you, knowing he is safe, your other grandson wanting the charmed circle to stay unbroken, the feeling of coming back home, all of it. Beautiful.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.