“Mommy is washing the dishes,”
They’ll tell each other
As they run around the backyard
In front of the car
In between the window panes as
I watch from within.
I stand at the sink
Scrubbing the used plates clean
Looking at my lovely children
Run and skip and shout
And enjoy the Cape
But where is my mother?
The house is made of her:
All things bear her touch
All walls are witness to her love
Her care
Her attention.
And where is my father?
His money, his land,
His patience was handy
His wealth of mind let this house thrive.
Someday I hope and pray, all three generations
Will enjoy this house together.
I will fulfill my mother’s role
And my kids mine,
But Mom and Dad
Will always be the caretakers
As I stare through the pane
Peeking through time
To see my own loves out in the yard
As I once was
I’ll wonder aloud
“Why did I not appreciate this haven
more
when I was young enough to know beauty?”
Please let my spirit
Stay, stay forever
In this Cape Cod dream.
Written in June 2017: I post this today with the realization that what we assume will be ours forever is not always so. Last summer I worked two jobs; my busy schedule allowed me to recognize just how lucky I was to have simple, peaceful memories of my childhood vacations on the Cape.
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