Counting in Lasts

Everything is changing-
I can feel it all around me.
And, it’s exciting, if not slightly
terrifying.
Bittersweet.
And slowly, you begin to count in
lasts.
Christmases, birthdays, everyday
lasts.
It’s saying goodbye to a part of myself
that is all I’ve ever known.
It’s packing memories in boxes, and
touching walls, remembering how the
grain lines in the wood formed faces.
How I got a splinter right here.
How those four structures knew me better
than any other being, and how I knew my
secrets would be safe-
even if the walls could talk.
Home never rebels against you.
It’s the sudden, sharp realization that the
people, scenery, sounds, smells-
they’ll all be different.
It’s the comfort in knowing that they still exist.
Yes, even without me, they are still.
She will mow and clean the pool.
He will cook and take off the garbage.
The will come together; remember why they
fell in love. Remember how I came to be.
Dogs will bark and play. Sleep. Protect.
They might forget me.
Grass will grow. It will rain.
Babies will be born. People will get old.
Death with touch when it is not expected.
And, also, when it is.
Life will go on, and move forward
in this little place that’s become so much
a part of me.
I will go too.
I will learn to count in firsts again.
Christmases, birthdays, everyday
firsts.
Different, but beautiful all the same.
And, I will be happy.