Silent Nights

The first cell phone photo shows Lucy on her back, asleep.  Her mouth wide open.
A second appears, with dogs Lucy and Loki, stretched out on a favorite sofa.
Both photos travel over interstate, from their Tennessee home.

Daughter Anna has shown us picture-proof that her dogs hold no grudges.
No grudges for having spent the past 13 months at our Wisconsin address.

Now spouse Rosie and I reign in our house once again.  Just the two of us.
Our front door no longer holds the dogs at bay while visitors wait outside.
A basement door does not fling open when thumps startle from determined paws.
But our now quiet basement does show its past.
A left behind play toy sits over there to see.  Some skid marks reflect back to busier times.

In the kitchen, we walk in a straight line.
For no canines bump or jump into our path when grocery bags arrive.
Or when birds fly up to window sill.
And the family room seems larger.
With TV not playing CSI.  But why?
Had I not enjoyed Horacio and Stella these past 13 months?

Outside, the third driveway stall sits empty.
The grey Pontiac sedan is no where in sight.
The emptied upstairs bedroom stands ready for others to visit.
But did I just glimpse Anna in the family room?
Did Rosie not see a dog go by out of the corner of her eye?
No. Nope. Just seeing things. For this past is still recent.

Both car and bedroom's clothes have traveled home with the dogs.
To Anna's home 11 hours away. By way of packed Pontiac and Nissan truck.
On a ride we started before sunrise, but did arrive until the early dark of night.

And once there, at a next morning, this Tennessee air sat cool and damp.
While we watched a returning plane unload 129 soldiers.
With all of us there to look for one named Mike.

They came marching in formation into the flagged hall.
While the one named Mike still hid behind look-a-like clothing.
And then it happened like it should.
The soldier named Mike came out from this crowd.
And bride Anna was lifted off the floor for a 2 minute twirl and hug.

So now our time as parents had once more ended.
It was satisfying. Emotional. Wishing this would not happen again.
Because two times was enough worry on us parents, we both shouted out in thought.
But the heavy air that day could not carry our thoughts to Washington.

So we chose to live in the present and to be satisfied.
As Anna and Mike and Loki and Lucy are together once more.
And our house, so busy for the past year, now sits in silent nights.