You are coming back.  Your mommy told me.  She said I should come and get you and Liza so she and daddy can pack up to drive.  Slow down, Mommy.

Now I sure am full of feelings.  The kind that jump, swirl, stick in the crooks of my neck and lodge in my spine. They push out my eyes and make my hands tight, lips pull in and my whole frame gets paced around the room this way and then that.  These are the kind that are hard to sort out because they come all in a sticky mass, like my favorite Trader Joe’s cranberry, almond, cashew mix.  I just have to swallow all together.  I must tell you first and best, that Grandpa and I are thrilled (there’s a cashew for you plucked from the mass) that you are coming back.  We will get to see you, assure ourselves that you and baby sissy are okay (She’s an almond pulled free).

Daddy and Mommy need to get better too. I’m not good at imagining that you are okay.  I have been called too concrete and literal (need to touch and feel things, take it all for what is said rather than what is meant) that’s a problem with being far away and you being unobservable. I don’t need to check behind your ears or anything, (maybe later, but not at first) but I am just sure that Liza needs her diaper changed, a bath and her bottle washed out.  I know it.

I am  a mother dog whose puppies have been given away-restlessly sniffing about, licking any feet that come near and laying close to her master for comfort.

Of course, you and I will finally be able to play, laugh and talk about things; like before.  And I’ll get to know your sister.  Those are the good parts. But, I don’t feel like celebrating quite yet.  Its that sticky mass of other feelings still gagging me.  Right now its sitting between my shoulders, like a headache or pack of stones, too weighty to manage.

How can Mommy and Daddy afford to move back?  Where will daddy work? We will help. But help them do what?  They have to bring a plan. Where will you guys live?  I looked at rents, even if we pay half, or all, a two bedroom place is over $1400. And even if we pay that, what will mommy do? Where will it be?  I want to check you each day.  That’s what I did before you left and many days it was a good thing. You needed help.  So did mommy.  I think I’ll ask mommy and daddy for a better plan.  I want to hear them talk about it to me and what they imagine.  Then I will discuss my questions.  I don’t want them to change their minds.  I just want them to plan better for some parts of it.  Oh, dear.  Its in my tummy.  I used to get bad tummy aches when you were a baby.  One is coming again.  I sometimes feel worry in there.  I feel responsibility and lack of air.  I am sick with it.

We are happy you will be here. Maybe in a month, tell mommy.  After there is a better plan.  After some time passes and some of the sticky things get teased apart and looked at separately, will we all relax into the idea. Teach me. We’ll see each other pretty soon. love and warm baths, gma