What do I wait for?

So proud, son working hard all day,
I work hard all day. He lays floor.
I grade and comment on student work.
We are both building a foundation
for someone's future.

I shop for fresh tomatoes,
beefsteak, plump green beans,
red potatoes and slather them with
olive oil, basil, dill, onion,
garlic, thyme and pepper.

Roasting vegetables, grilling
chicken, slowly while my boy
sleeps. He is recovering himself
in sleep, in rest, in quiet.

Just as the scents pour from the oven
and the timer to rescue the breasts
from the grill sounds, our dog
raises her head in excitement.

Dylan is awake, coming downstairs.
He announces, "I'm going to Dan's."
"No." I know I can't keep him. "I
cooked. It's ready now. Just a minute.
Just a few minutes to eat."

"More than a few," he says. "
Then just taste this roasted tomato."
"That's good."

The dish will keep. The food will
wait for him. What do I wait for?

Another late night

In Sophie's Choice, she does not try to commit suicide while she is in the refuge camp. Later, when she is in Sweden, when she sees herself and cannot bear what she sees, that is when she makes the attempt. She meets Nathan; thinks that he saves her as she is passed out on the library floor.

"There are so many things you do not understand and so many things you cannot understand." Sophie says to Stingo. Isn't that the way for most. Either we cannot speak because the words stick in our mouths or we cannot speak because we are certain that no one has been where we have been.

Sometimes two damaged people find one another. They do understand. Each other. And it seems that there will be an answer there - salvation - a beacon - completion. But it doesn't work out that way, does it? Instead, they struggle, hold, push, hold, run, hold, and break down in their own ways. What remains? What?

I don't know. I've never known. I know that Sophie loved her children. That is all I really understand about love.

The rest is only something I imagine. The Heart of Darkness is no darker than this film.