Last day. Not ready.

I stare at the thin strips of white light and wish for time to slow itself.

Contrast.

I drink the coffee slowly and make a mental list of what needs to be done.

I sit down in the sun and take off my sweater. I look around at the trees. I feel like I’m much further away from home than I really am, and I am grateful for that.

A picture of half-smiling pre-teens and one more round of hugs before we leave.

Knowing that you will see them again, most likely sooner than later.

One article outline and a solid rough draft complete before we get onto Jameson Canyon.

We always talk while I run my items through the check-out lane. She reminds me to slow down, to make time for those kinds of small and meaningful interactions.

We listen to my uncle’s live show on the way to batting practice. He asks me if that is his uncle too. Yes, of course. He asks if he’s famous. I laugh. In his circle, he is well-known and appreciated and he knows a lot of people who do amazing things.

I get there early to read. A breeze blowing through open windows. The thwack of a bat connecting with a ball. The sound of a whistle in the distance. Reminders to drink lots of water and to do not swim before the game.

Acknowledgment. Now, to work toward a resolution.