May, if anything, is a month of anniversaries. This May marks my parents' forty-seventh, my sister's eighteenth, Dad's first with Judy and the Marsherall's third. In May I celebrate my Un-versary with the same proud toast.
I used to be able to fit everything I owned in my car.
Before I was grown.
I arrived at that house with two trunks and some clothes.
We filled it with furniture and wedding gifts.
Cause we thought we were grown.
I packed away my composition books, charcoals and passport.
I gave up all my campus campaigns.
Cause I thought that was what you did when you were grown.
We ate dinner each night and watched Jeopardy.
We spent Saturdays at Home Depot.
We considered buying a grave site.
It was over anyway.
We weren't in love but we had each other.
We had grown.