FURLOUGH


I kiss him goodbye
I pat his cheek
And feel it
Strangely silken to the touch
I never realized how silken a beard is
So strangely silken to the touch
An odd thought to have at such a moment

"Goodbye", I say,
"Shalom"
And we look at each other
And I know
He knows
The things I want to say
Were spoken
Unspoken!

Who knows when I'll see him again?
But this we do not mention.
We only say
"Baruch Hashem Yom Yom"
And with that
We speak
The unspeakable

My past is there
Standing in the doorway
In his uniform,
His wife and children waiting for him
In the car below
And we are saying
The simplest of goodbyes -
"Shalom",
"Lehitraoth "
I stand in the doorway
Watching him turn slowly
As he smiles
Walking down the steps.
My past is walking down the steps.
My past, in him ever present.

The glory of childbirth
The fear of childbirth
The coming alive of new feelings
The pouring of one's self
Into another
The parting of one's self from another

It's all there
At the top of the stairs
Turning to walk down the steps
And we've said
The simplest of Goodbyes.
"Shalom",I say.
"Lehitraoth," he says
And I say again,
"Shalom, my son!"

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This material is ©1998 by Grace Hollander
3 Keren Haysod st,Ramat Ilan, Givat Shmuel, Israel 51905

Permission to distribute this material, with this notice is granted - with request to notify of use by surface mail
or at gracehollander@usa.net.