The girls played outside and sang and people sat and listened and and friends met up and Hank and May were there and it was like a dream in the chilling darkness and I remembered watching a lunar eclipse somewhere very nearby there, forty years ago. It was one of those times when time itself spins and it's difficult, if not impossible, to hold on to the present as the past is too much there.
Home to sleep under cave-covers, up to get ready for the boys to come. It will be a full day of them here and it's Jessie and Vergil's last day here and I'm not sure what they're doing but I'm fairly certain of what I'll be doing and it will involve snacks and stories and toys and dogs and chickens and watch this! and arms held up to me, hold me, and I'm not sure if it's a Power Ranger who will be here or a Hulk but a super hero for sure and his little brother, too, and I had no idea, twenty-nine years ago when I was one-day-before-married-to-that-very-tall man that here we'd be, grandsons, grown children, all the spinning life of it but instead was mostly worried about my dress, our vows (we had no idea what we were saying) the flowers, the cake, we had had four days to get ready for a spontaneous wedding, no idea that one day would lead into another, twenty-nine times three-hundred-and-sixty-five, today, this one, here we are and it's chilly and the boys are coming and the girls sang last night, sending sweet notes up to the skies to join all the other vibrations of sound, love, worry, joy, everything of humanity, good morning from Lloyd and we go on, the world spinning, sometimes we do too.
We do too and who could have known?