This past March was tense and difficult. The 11th was Babu’s birthday but instead of her, we had a job. Adam’s uncle, Tony, came from Tennessee and helped to start the process of doling out things that were hers and now theirs. You can imagine how that can go. At some point one night during his stay we were cooking and listening to “oldies.” On an actual radio. California Dreamin’ came on and it was like a transportation. “For Trishie.” Tony said. Trishie is the aunt who stayed at home in California for this trip. We sang all the words and danced with each other. We felt a weight lifted for a moment.
It was all a bit surreal, not in a bad way, and I began this poem:
Houses hold ghosts,
ghosts of passed and past.
These moments we may not know about.
Possession is the only explanation.
And then its gone.
Here is last year’s post for “D”
Here’s the one from 2017: