Wednesday, August 24, 2011

an accumulation of signs

we mostly live by ourselves now.  it's just joe and me in our mostly tidy house.  the kid is here maybe one or two nights a week, but sometimes i become aware that he has been home while we're at work.  because i see in patterns, i read his signs easily.

the following represents an accumulation of signs of his passage taken over several visits.  i don't know why this interests me, but i find it comforting to find his traces in the house, even now when we don't see so much of him.  as soon as i see the first sign, i float through the house gathering up the rest, putting together a picture of his presence, imagining him going about his life while it intersects briefly with the place we all call home.  as a reader, i glean from the signs, putting together stories.  like a little animal, i shamble about, room to room, sniffing up evidence, reconstructing the path that other little animal took.

which doesn't always make me popular.  i was asked last night via text if i make it a practice to go through the trash when i get home.  as a rule, no, i don't.  but when i notice something interesting in the bin, i might ask about it.  

but i can't help it.  it comforts me to see these markers of my boy's existence in our house still.       i like knowing he was here even when i wasn't.  the little signs he leaves behind make me happy, even when i'm picking up the bath mat for the ten-thousandth time.

a jacket on the hearth,
sometimes a backpack

toss-away coffee cup,
generally in the trash.  sometimes
soda bottles in the recycling.

laundry doors left open.
i always close them.

that pesky bath mat just doesn't hang itself

sometimes new artwork appears

sometimes a new single on the coffee table

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