The homeowners came back late last night. First order of business settled this morning : the family can stay. The space in which they live needs winterizing, but the father’s more than willing to do the work.

The eldest daughter is  sick this morning and can’t go to school. The homeowners want to talk + get back into their life + plus talk some more. I’m packed and ready to leave but want to see the children first so that I don’t just disappear from their life (I’ll be back, of course, but how can a child know that ?)

Suspended – memories of childhood, sitting on a stoop, waiting for the movers’ van to show  and the men to load up our belongings. The talk, the commotion, the adults swirling about. Storing up images – of imprints on the sidewalk, of leaves, of neighborhood cats and dogs. Watching the van pull away. Walking through the empty house, closing doors for the last time.  Into the car, and waiting to see the sights over the driver’s shoulder,  further down the road.