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Movement U

The lather and the water dripped down.
My cleanly stripped body.
Washing away all the weeks build up.
Head back, water running down – a cleanly
Stripped body.

“I won’t pretend I’m good at forgiving.” She sang.
Words more personal than she’ll know.
More relevant to me...
The phone rang.
I answered – and it was him.

I was excited, because he’s always been my favorite.
Pleasantries exchanged.
Love exchanged.
Love is stronger than pride.

“That’s my favorite Sade song.” He said.
I laughed. And thought to myself and then explained
My antipathy towards Sade until the latter.
He left in 1986. To go to college.
He 18, I 4. Not fully understanding –remembering the Sade song that played,
As I cried, kneeling as in prayer on the red suede reclining chair in our one bedroom
Roach infested apartment on the cul-de-sac on Hobart.
“Maureen – it’s hard to explain. Never gonna see you again…never meet my new friends…”

A solemn pause.
Lather rinsed.
A deeper meaning.
Water feels like rain drops as I stood there.
“I got extended until June.” He said as my heart dropped.

I was anticipating June – before I moved, to the new city.
I was anticipating seeing him back in one piece.
I was anticipating Iraq being a thing of his past and not of his future.
“December at the latest.”
I though Christmas – the perfect gift.
Something to look forward to.

I miss him.
In a war that he has nothing to do with.
A battle that is bigger than the one back at home;
In his life;
In our family.

I think of him daily.
I pray for him constantly.
I laugh at the good times.
I laugh at the bad ones too.
I think about his support.
I think about our tears.
I think about our struggle.

I love my uncle.
December can get here quick enough.

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