November 3rd, 2007
I said goodbye to my grandmother today. She is so far along her path out of this life I’m sure we are no more distinct than faces outside the window of a departing train. She even refers to herself in the past tense: “I died in November,” she told me. Even so, she managed to give me one last kiss and I love you. I told her I love her forever, but she had already moved on and dismissed my words with a sly shrug and a flip of her hand. “Whatever,” she said. I had to laugh.
I wrote the song Fly Away about my children leaving home, but I will sing them for her too.
I remember leaving home
I heard tomorrow calling me
Poised for flight, I couldn’t see
My mother’s eyes watching me
Now my children look ahead
On the edge, they won’t stay
And they don’t look back at me
I wish them well and turn away
Seasons change and years go by
Children grow and summers die
Winter holds the seeds of spring
And the night surrenders to sunrise
I’ve left my former self behind
Her time is past, I won’t delay
And I won’t look back at her
I wish her well and turn away
Now I’m free to spread my wings
I hear tomorrow calling me
On the edge and poised for flight
I wish you well and fly away
When I left the house and walked down the street I noticed that the olives had been swept away and the sidewalk was clear.
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