“Child. Never say, good bye.”

My Grandmother believed “good bye” was an uttered death knell, a cursed spell, a forgetting.

She said, “See you soon.”

I’ll never forget our last Sunday. The year was 1969. The Maple trees, with leaves the colours of sunset, fenced the property. Wind blew off the lake. I wore a leather mini skirt- the height of fashion. My younger sister wore the vest. In the morning, we’d board a flight which would vault us to the east coast and a new life. Neither of us wanted to leave what was familiar: Sunday dinners and family, friendships and home. I placed one hand upon the door handle and paused. My heart pitched.

“Good bye, Grandma.”

“Child. Never say ‘good bye.’ Say, ‘See you soon.’ ”

People give and then they take away. We live, learning to bear their fingerprints, on our hearts. The most painful good byes are the ones left unexplained.

My grandmother never spoke of ‘The Old Country’ and the home she’d left. No one dared speak of the past while in her presence. It was forbidden. She was a woman who had endured that which is unbearable. With grace, she had learned to look straight on, to not stumble.

I’ve never been too good about ‘good bye.’ Even, ‘see ya,’ sticks to my tongue. I keep those I love forever and leave in silence. I hold to hope. Somewhere down the line, we’ll meet again, we’ll be together.

Stone By Stone

Grey. I was grey. Grey as the stones washed upon the shore, heavy with the history of us. Little stones washed over my feet like scattered pieces of an unspoken truth. As the sea sang in a whispered hush, I flung one stone. Then another. Stone by stone I cast you off.

Except for one. A crooked heart. This one I shall place upon your grave.

~ Annie

The Girl With The Rain- soaked Eyes


Seated at a roadside table

Her knee pressed yours

One timeless moment

You can’t forget

The girl with the rain soaked eyes.

She holds sorrow as a mother holds a newborn babe

Gently, softly

And you are young again and safe

In the arms of the girl with the rain soaked eyes.

You’ll say you’ve moved on yet find yourself lost in the folds of her dress,

young again and it’s your first kiss

While night turns away, she circles back

And you are a moth to light

For the girl with the rain soaked eyes.