All Souls Day ,
Natalie Serianni
A damp , dark end to daylight saving time . The wipers swish all the way to Sea-Tac . Delta Terminal . Curbside check in . Raindrops . Hatch up , bags handed . Close hugs . My reflection in those airport sliding doors – and his … and hers . A trinity : toddler with wave-like emotions , a father of three with 70 years of life , and a daughter , straddling , struggling , in the middle of it all .
The reluctant nucleus . I pull her from the car seat as he heads into the sliding door ; a “ Wait !!” “ She wanted to see you , to send you off , but didn ’ t want to say good-bye .”
Then … turning around … embrace ; turning in . Generational depth : Differing heights ; rough , sun-worn gentle hands grabbing for a small apple-pie face , all cheeks . Holding me tight . Her heart is so big , he says , and , now , mine – exquisite swelling . It ’ s him , and her . And him … with my mother , a distant life away .
Remnants of her – 70s-faded photos on a fridge , but sealed in heart-places . Holding . Hugging . This web of links to life – giving and receiving ; hands gently rubbing round bellies ; the unique , the universal . Tired eyes with grateful smiles .
Bags by the door . Fumbling for keys and carry-ons . That autumn morning , I saw the cataract clouds as he drank his coffee , brown and yellow leaves dropping in the yard behind him . The future was clear – his , and mine . Decisive displays of light-ness , digging into the whims of what might be . All souls included .
After the snap of buckles , the heater hummed . Quiet . Salty tears well ; a blinker to merge left . Home .
November 1 – Dad : 10:35 flight Seattle to Richmond , Chicago layover
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