Sunday, July 22, 2007

Haircut 12 weeks countdown

It was at the haircutters, on May 28, 2007, that the countdown really started. Kalei would graduate June 1st, and a busy week lay ahead. I stood at the counter paying for my regular 6-week haircut and looking at the calendar, booking the next 2 appointments. I set the next appointment in early July, then flipped the calendar to August and a date twelve weeks hence. I gasped "Oh, Kalei will have just left for college!" and started to cry, right there in the salon, surrounded by strangers, the smells of hairproducts and beautiful magazine models. Well, I thought, it's going to be a long summer!

July 8, 2007

I cry easily these days, and often feel “at a loss”. On the outside I do the job, the friends, the family, the yoga, the walking, the writing, the housework, the newspaper, the bedtime reading of a novel. On the inside, I am like, don’t bother or distract me, I am busy watching, I am bearing witness to the passing of an era as surely as though I was watching the sun set on a turbulent, stressful, rich and rewarding day. I am sitting here with my camera focused and ready to capture whatever comes before my sight line.

I make travel arrangements for next month, then start making them for holiday travel to Portland and home. I begin to plan my own fall trip to pay a short visit to my daughter’s new world and hang with an old friend in SF, my favorite city. I search for college dorm bedding online; I join the parents listerve and get lots of advice about weather, winter clothing and when to fly out of Arcata to avoid the fog. I edit, post and order graduation photos for the family and friends.

Why do I feel “at a loss”? it is one of those idioms we say all the time without thinking about it, and yet it is perfect actually. I am suddenly face to face with a big stop sign--- right smack up against a loss that is so imminent my feet seem frozen in place, making it hard for my usually decisive planner of a self to ever feel as though I am doing quite the right thing. I cannot discern what I want to do, how I want to spend my time, changing my mind several times before doing something with my “free time”. A big part of me wants to hibernate, to only work on these preparations, to stay focused inward. Yet, as I finally did today after some inner turmoil, when I venture out there, into the world around me, I find mirrors and companionship; my fellow humans remain fascinating complex creatures, unexpected sources of inspiration and advice.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

poem when my son graduated in 2002

The Graduate

This weekend
adolescent mynahs
took flight
from their nests in our attic.
So my son
left us
in a ritual
I never expected
to bear such meaning.

A full moon rises
and presides
over the sea of leis, balloons
inflatable swim toys
whoops and cheers,
as our helium-filled
youth
float off
into their
enormous
blue sky.

We watch
clap, laugh,
hug, mug,
take a million photos
wonder if it might rain
and pray the wind stays
always at his back
carrying him back
fresh from adventure
to touch the nest
and fly away again.

May 2002