My father has come and gone.  The sheets are in the wash, the towels are next.  The big room is airing out for the summer roommate and the guest rooms are being remade for round two of family.  Another bed is on its way.  More pillows bought.  More towels.  More welcome treats.  He is moving into my bathroom and there is that to tackle too: the piles of clothes, the mounds of hair aids, the books tucked everywhere.

And there was yesterday.  Our long trip to another city with an airport.  The stops at our favorite stores along the way and those small things: notbreathingfingerscrossed every time I had to go, buying small things just in case, the moment in the bathroom this morning and his sweet messages when I told him.  Me now: sitting on the couch, thinking on all of the people this summer will bring, the threads of memory we will create, rolling around the no from this morning and wondering if maybe this summer is my yes.  

Maybe His timing really is as good as we say, maybe there are bigger yeses headed my way and maybe there is a new strength to be found inside the no, maybe even a birth.