Rocks

Max came to town the same week my father left. It was a good week for me and a tough one for Mom. Her hair was stringy and her eyes were puffy. You could tell there was a void in her heart that needed filling. The yard was neglected. There were holes where the septic tank had been repaired. Max bought a bag of stones from Home Depot and drove over. We sat on the stoop of our one story and grabbed a handful each. We sat for hours, throwing rocks at that hole, trying eagerly to fill it. rocks fall slowly from nostalgic skies - first rain of spring