It was early morning on Friday,

As always,
Dad and Mom helped me tuck up the trunk,
Grandparents sat on the steps, gazing out at their kids.

Not as always,
I quickly got into the car, closed the door,
But let the window down to hear Mom’s instructions as I drove out of the little gate.
The wind didn’t blow,
The leaves didn’t sway,
Dad kept silent as always,
There were only Mom’s echoes,
Then, the goodbye was said neatly.
I pressed the gas and faded away,
Leaving two little shadows on that familiar sidewalk.

That day,
I could have leaned on Dad’s shoulder while loading stuff,
I could have looked straight into Mom’s eyes before getting in,
So, tears would have flowed.
But that is not how we operate for lives,
That is not how we say goodbye.
Maybe because we knew we would reunite in less than two years.

This day,
Third year,
The wind blows,
The leaves sway,
My heart ripples restlessly,
Those at home are still waiting,
While I, far away, am still regretting.

If only I had said goodbye properly that day,
If only we had hugged,
If only…

• Initial: June 14, 2024