The Hill of Hope

Now, here in our cozy valley
Tie up loose ends
Pack the memories, but first
Take a trip down amnesia lane
When they were a baby, a toddler, a child
A teen coming into bright depths of being
He and me
Before we knew how to laugh even harder than before
And took each day not as a given
But as a gift, burnished, barely out of the box
All the trappings of a life thus far well lived
Now in yesterday’s newspaper (donated by friends who still subscribe to an actual paper)
Now paintings swaddled in kitchen towels
Now gimcracks tshotchkes doodads this and that
Tossed into wicker baskets and boxes
And so much great stuff
Given to friends family Goodwill

Soon
Climb to a new place, rise to the challenge
Unpack it all again and never miss
belongings we have shed along with way
And marvel at
what remains
especially the memories

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

A prompt from a new blog, https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/ Lots of old friends from my Poetic Asides and Imaginary Garden with Real Toads days. I am happy to be back writing again!

We are indeed moving from the church we have served for 13 years to a new church, still in Wisconsin, but a ways away. It’s all good, the present church needs a half-time pastor and we can’t afford to take that hit, so they will hire a new pastor, someone bivocational. The new church has welcomed us with extravagant love. They are looking to live more deeply into their LGBTQ+ covenant. So even though we are cisgender, well, as my Jeffery said, “Yes, you get to play in our sandbox!” and then there’s Luka, so it feels as though the Spirit has led us to one last pastoral challenge!! All is well. But oy, the boxes and tape and all the rest. But after 30+ moves in my lifetime (seriously), I’ve got it down to a science of color coding and making grids of every room on graph paper. What a nerd.