break due to Irma

 

Sorry for my absence.  We ended up having to evacuate our home in South Florida due to   Hurricane Irma.  The first day we drove to Valdosta, Georgia.  What should have been a 5.5-hour journey turned into a 12-hour drive fest on back roads to avoid the “real” jams on the Turnpike or 95.  From there the plan was to go to Birmingham, Alabama but Irma changed her course and wanted to follow us.  So, last-minute we decided to trek to Richmond, Virginia to visit family.  We spent another day in the car – this time 15 hours.  In the wee hours of the morning, we would see cars piled into rest areas – I assumed the occupants were sleeping.  We continued past and didn’t arrive at our destination in Virginia until 3 am.

My beautiful autistic son with Type 1 diabetes, epilepsy, and mental health diagnoses was given an emergency prescription of Geodon to get us there safely.  We only had one major behavior “hiccup.”  (We also had a car accident, but that’s a different story.)

My son, stressed because we had to leave our house and stuck in the car, decided to whip my head back a few times by grabbing my hair.  I’m driving, of course, and my daughter, trying to shield my head, almost had her arm broke trying to protect me.  We were, thankfully, going through a city, and I was able to pull over for safety.

Long story short – I’ll spare you the miserable details, or I’ll write a pretty poem about them later, we are finally back home.

Debris to clean up, hurricane shutters to take down and food to buy is what the next few days hold.

Our coast was spared this time, praise God!

a time ago

the glass looked divine tonight,

thank you for the suggestion

laughed at the silly pelicans scooping

at their reflection

saw my profile in the clouds,

a reminder that I’m only vapor

saw the pink streamers reach out

from the heavens

and

the black bird tried to distract my view

as I watched the seagulls get lost behind the waves

 

the glass looked divine tonight,

as the coral water sheened

looked behind the lifeguard stand,

saw the orange gulp down the white

watched you go into the water

under that sleepy light

and

it really did look divine tonight,

thank you for the suggestion

she’ll be right

Please forgive my wandering mind, but I want to go to Australia.  Forget about the long flight, and watch the kangaroos with their dangling arms cross the street.  I want to smile at the way they say my name, Sheila.  Have an old Aussie take my scarred hand  and whisper, “How ya goin’ luv?”  Nod back.  If you only knew.

I want to go to a place where I can drink wine at lunch guilt-free.  Tour a vineyard near the coast and dream about buying an old villa.  Befriend the locals and whip up a mean spaghetti alla carbonara.  Watch my prosecco sparkle in its glass, and toast to the year I never had.  Listen to them laugh and think.  Isn’t this nice.

Go to a place where I bow to show respect, and I’m admired for being tall.  Drink loads of green tea and feel uber-relaxed because of all that L-theanine.  Touch the translucent screen with my fingertips, close the shoji.  Slip in the futon and sleep like never before.  Learn how to play the shakuhachi and delete the Deuter station on my Pandora.  I don’t need your music anymore.  Be so relaxed that I’ll defy gravity, so I’ll float and swim in the clouds.  And I’ll feel sorry that you can’t join me.

Go to a hidden forest and have the moss stain my vision green for days on end.  Hum the song “The Misty Mountains Cold” as I walk around for hours in sacred silence.  Go for a month-long stay in Bora Bora.  Be greeted with fresh pineapple, and then graciously tell them that I’m allergic to pineapple.  But I’ll dream of eating pineapples when I sleep over the water and grow delirious with their sweetness.  The glass sea will be so breathtaking that I’ll forget how to cry.

Go to a red house with a pink door bathed in sunlight.  Walk inside, leave the door open, and not faint when I marvel at its beauty.  Flowers will adorn the counter and tabletops.   Heavenly bulbous flowers that would make the Queen of Hearts jealous, or at the very least, she’d want to know my secret for growing such massive flowers.  I wouldn’t tell her though.  She’d have a tantrum, but I would only laugh.  She wouldn’t; she couldn’t ever phase me.

I want to walk through the house, and run my fingers along the patched gossamer blue walls.  I’ve missed you.  Smell the lavender you sprayed a moment ago.  Hear the cardinal that always pecks at the door.  Poor thing, he’s confused, because the house is red.  Notice how much the carpet of pink around the pool has grown.  Wonder how the flowers fell so gracefully in the laps of the worn ballerina statues, and I’ll admire their patience.

Please forgive my wandering mind; I just want to be hopeful.  It’ll be different this time.  I close the pink door and pray.