All the clocks are gone....

As I get ready for work i have no way of telling if I'm going to be on time, because all the clocks are gone.

As I walk down the stairs to get my clothes out of the dryer and I look above the door, the clock is gone. It was sold last week at a yard sale. It used to tell me when it was time for school, when power rangers were on and when it was time to line up for snack and now the clock is gone.

The clock in the kitchen is gone too. I gave it to a friend. But now as I eat breakfast at the table that will still be gone too, I can't tell time. The clock that let me know if I was late for dinner, or only had five minutes to eat before practice... is gone.

All the alarm clocks are unplugged and even the oven stopped working.

The clocks are gone and the irony is time really is all we have. Not much, a week too be exact. A week before we say goodbye to the place we grew, the place that made me with the mom who made this house a home. The hand-prints guide the stairs that lead to the rooms that made me. The rooms that my friends and I played. the TV I ran to Saturday mornings to get control on the toons.

On nights like tonight, its hard to sleep because the sky light that was put in when I was a kid makes the rain so loud.

The deck squeaks but its where all our cleats met by the door.

And the windows are all new...except the one in your room. That one remains original. That was to become a doubled door out to the deck to be built outside your room. The deck that would allow your summer nights to be held outside. Your own oasis with the view of the hills and the wisteria.

And now as we leave, the clocks are all gone and, it is the window not a door that remains. All the plans you had are put on hold an we won't see them. But it's ok because the home you built is now just a house.

Because a house just isn't a home once your mom is gone.