The waves, the waves, pounding the dark stretch of sand. And I, not far away, can not sleep, determine not to weep, at the sound of the sea from which I came. “Return…return.”, it whispers in the night. “One day you will. Return to me.”
The Things Left Undone
I am sitting at a desk in my dead mother’s little house in Barnesville, Georgia, on April 6, 2011. On the desk next to me as I write is a cardboard box containing the ashes of my mother who I had expected would be here, alive, when I planned this trip. Instead, she could not wait for me any longer. I’ve been here for about an hour, arriving early this morning. This is hard. I knew it would be. I understood that her death would not be real to me until I stood in her little place, with her […]