on the patio

My cousin, Jim, just left a bit ago. He was the last guest from out of town to go home. The new normal is upon me. I'm sitting on my patio listening to Enya. Probably not a good idea, but it's the mood I'm in. The sky is pink and the cicadas are loud. If I close my eyes, I am back on Whitehall Court, and my mom will be in the chaise lounge next to me reading a book. I will be 17 again with everybody still alive and no experience with pain save a broken romance or two.

I miss my mom and dad. Both of Jim's parents are dead too, so he knows how it is. When he left tonight, I told him he could always stay at our house if he wanted to come to Louisville. I told my Aunt Nanette that I was afraid they wouldn't come see me again. I can't bear the thought of losing my extended family along with my parents. Kirk says I'm the matriarch now. How is it I'm the matriarch at 43? Shouldn't that title go to someone older?

I just want to go to bed and sleep for a week. I want my dad. I want my mom. Now that everyone is gone, I can finally let myself feel sad, but I just don't know if I can handle it.