I know how to say good-bye.

Twenty-two cities.
Thirty homes.
Eight schools.
Five colleges.
Forty-five room-mates (plus).
One fiancé.
Two houses.
Four cars.
Six pets.
Eighteen employers.

Countless friends.

Bits of my heart snagged loose and left behind;
precious and prone snippets that shriveled and lifted into the fickle wind,
betrayed by the breath that carried "good-bye." 

My memory alone holds the map of my journey,
and it has erased so much- -
unaccustomed to the burden of retention,
untested in the skill of holding on,
unrelenting in the motion of forward.

Separation from my heart's northern star
- -a fleeting, fearful side-affect of my imagination- -
ushers in a breathless crush of pain.

I know how to say good-bye,
which is why
I never want to know how to lose.

All of my babies are twins
born side-by-side with the fathomless fear of losing them.
Heaven and earth forbid it and perish the thought.

Change is laying in wait to devour the lovely nest
I have feathered here in the clean and dew-dampened Northwest.
It is lurking. It is licking it's long jagged teeth.

I am not afraid of Change.
I know how to say good-bye.

I'll pay my toll to the troll and pass through.
I'll say "good-bye" to places and friends.
Again.
As long as Loss and I
have an understanding.

©2013 Kathleen Ditty Simmons. All rights reserved.

To the party who deigns to read this post...

Dear Ms. Accountability,
Today I logged my calories, but haven't exercised. My much-better-half is on a mission to run a marathon and all indications are that this will be his time to succeed! He is off to an amazing start and I would claim pride but that would denote having a hand in it. Literally, I actually do have a hand in it if you consider that I purchased healthy food at Costco on Friday, portioned out snack bags and duly noted the number of calories contained therein. But beyond that, I have no claim on his success. I must admit that I'm proud of him none-the-less. He is kicking butt and taking names to myfitnesspal. Go boyfriend!!

Dear M. Muse,
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE don't forsake me! This story that you have delivered at my feet and guided the writing of for better than 50,000 words lays half-baked and waiting for resuscitation to vitality and delivery to completed creation. Whoever you are- -you who whispers tantalizing ideas into my brain and singes my fingertips with furious and frantic lightning and my frail little hopeful heart with visions of publication- -you darn well better stick with me. PLEASE do not be fickle where my prospects are concerned. Furthermore, please pardon my delay as it is due in part to the arrival (if I may say so myself) of a delectably enchanting smallish girl person who (how else can I say it?) needs me more than Simon does just now. If I sound desperate it is only because {{I AM!}} I love the promise of conducting this story as copper conducts electricity, pipes conduct water and smallish boys conduct mayhem. I cannot claim it's creation to myself, but please don't go looking for a new conveyor of words. Stick with me{{!!!}}. (You know you want to. I'll give you five bucks. I can only imagine that even muses need their own proverbial "diet cola" money from time to time... wink, wink.) Seriously, though. Don't go.

Dear Father Time,
Slow the heck down! We have already mourned the passing of #2's "I luFF it!" phase. "I luFF waffles!" "I luFF dinosaurs!" "I luFF this show!" "I luFF baby si(s)dder!" Although I suppose I must acknowledge due credit to you for simultaneously ushering in the current "danks mom! you duh best!" phase- -as long as you insist on persisting. The TRex phase is still alive and well- -complete with two fingered hand-holding, high-fiving, cup-wielding, etc. Bless him, that "cutest dinosaur in the whole wide world" of mine. :) Offspring #1 is currently thick in "the emotional and cognitive experimentation and independence of the four-y-o mind" business. THICK, I tell you. On one hand: kudos to his developmental progression. On the other hand: please let us progress through this phase with speedy forgetting! "You make me so angry!" "I know a LOT of things!" (said in disdain at the suggestion that he has some growing up yet to do, and will know as much as mommy does one day- -maybe even more!) "I wish I wasn't in this family!" "This has been the best day ever!" etc, etc. I have to remind myself that he is only four and despite his very loud assertions that he "IS a bigger kid!!" he still wants to "nuggle" me (in the words of #2) every night before bedtime, and can often be found perched on my lap through out the day. His ability to make friends and create wonderful adventures is inspiring and I hope that will be one thing that never phases out. As for #3, all I can tell you is that I'm all at once weary, grateful and awed when she wants me. Her sweet, unconditional smile is my very undoing.

Dear blogosphere,
Thanks for still being here when I need you.

Nigh night.