kevin o

We dropped our daughter off in Blacksburg, VA last week for her Freshman year at Virginia Tech. We hadn’t been home long before her mother decided to give Abbey’s room that “good” cleaning and, in doing so, discovered the following - written in longhand on a single sheet of notebook paper, hiding under an old plastic bag and a lost sock. I’m publishing it with Abbey’s consent.

The back porch itself is very dirty - filled with dust, pollen, and various other debris tracked in by the dogs (Jack and Huli). But when we sit on the back porch, we see life. Flowers and plants thrive in their rainbow joy, shading us and housing our friends. The sweet smell of the Jasmine and Wisteria hesitate into our noses. Sometimes we can tell that Bobbie and Kim (our neighbors) are revving up the grill for a great dinner. My Dad’s iTunes songs dance through the speakers to bring us the words of Ella Fitzgerald, or The White Stripes, or Biggie Small, or The Be Good Tanyas and we are happy.

My mom offers me a sip of her wine and I let the cold, sour concoction sting my tastebuds as I try not to cringe so that she’ll think I’m finally a big girl. Jack is wandering in the yard - aloof and independent as always, but Huli is on my lap, of course. I can feel the heat radiating off of him as he pants. His heart is racing - almost bursting from his ribcage - and mine starts to race as well when I realize this is my last full summer of family nights on this porch.