Labor Day Weekend



My little sister turned 30.


We spent the whole day watching
the rain through the wide windows.


Outside, the creek rose and rushed,
a river of childhood memories.


Inside, it was the first time I saw her baby
crawl, rushing forward into childhood.


The one who hates aging dreams.
The one who doesn’t mind lives the dream.




Grandfather C. bends forward
more each time I see him. Today
his beautiful white hair, clean and
combed, rests like a tidied, empty nest
above his beautiful, smooth face.
His blue eyes are bright on this visit
although there is less to say
than there used to be. He takes
slow, small steps walking me
out to the car. He is so grateful
to be able to walk at 92, and I
slow my pace to rejoice with him.




I wasn’t expecting the tears.


Thank you, he whispered, his body
leaning over me, his arm encircling me.


They used to say the “B.J.” was a legend,
said Grandfather R. I knew it was true. I loved


the days growing up on his boat. I loved
him, and maybe my story let him know.


I hope it did.



2 Responses to “ “Labor Day Weekend”

  1. Matt says:

    joanne: yes, there is more. Amy designated the Waffle House parking lot as our meeting place for the Sufjan Stevens concert (Monday, September 11). We parked our cars there and carpooled downtown.

    This whole one-liner thing is a blast. Everything becomes potential material now that I’m getting used to the rhythm of jotting things down on post-it notes and receipts.

    Love your most recent one-liner: “Sometimes the whole point of yesterday is today.” Good stuff.

  2. Joanne Chantelau says:

    Cool, thanks, Matt! Thanks for checking out my site. The one-liner thing is totally addictive, isn’t it! You should see all the ones I haven’t submitted. Nice pic, by the way. = )

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