I am drinking a dry Chardonnay

which is not uncommon for me.

This time it’s at my parents house.

Neither of them in it.

My mother suffered a progressive

brain killing disease for several years.

My dad having brain surgery this very day.

I don’t have to look far to see the

last 5 years frozen in my parent’s home.

My mothers sewing machine with the last

Pant seam she ever sowed

still lay underneath the needle.

My mother’s patterns from the last 40 years still with pins.

Fabric.

My father has more of the will live to live well than anyone you will meet.

He lays in the hospital. His head shaved.

No longer with his beautiful white waves.