When we said goodbye in Florida,
I really thought we were saying “Goodbye.”
That was the plan for the trip, after all.
One visit to this lousy state, to visit our old friend Murray.
We had no idea how long he’d have left.
It seemed like his health was deteriorating,
even though he was younger than my Mom.

We would take the car on a train,
then drive the rest of the distance,
and spend a week with Murray.
It would probably be the last time we’d see him.

And it was a good week.
We left things on fine terms,
but certainly said nothing of final farewells,
for who would say such things outright?
Why would anyone be so barefaced and bald
in their truth like that?
So we just said “See you again,”
and left it at that.

And then another year or two passed,
and while Murray improved, he wasn’t in any state
to come up to New York,
so we arranged another trip down to the ridiculous
Fort Lauderdale
(There’s nothing actually wrong with Fort Lauderdale;
just where it is).

Murray’s a lot more mobile! He’s healthier,
and can get around far more easily than the other year.
Signs point to a much longer life.
So what were we worried about last time?
No goodbyes this time.
Much more of a “See you next time!” spirit.

Let’s just hope that it’s true.