golden

it was a banana peel
on a high up branch

it made us laugh
and hug - 
as we said good bye
to those lovely North Carolina mountains
and the sparkle of that tiny lake
named after Indians

as she said good bye to 
this space 
and this life
her last few breaths 
of the mountain air

never one to waste anything
not even organic trash
it often went over the porch rail
to "feed the hill" she would say

these clothes 
to the battered women's shelter
that furniture 
to an old couple she knew
"down on their luck"
these pieces of jewelry
collected over all of her life
to her grandchildren

one last dinner party 
to say farewell
to new old friends

the last little pile of books and pictures
came back with me

and all she took for her last trip 
were two unplanned suitcases
with clothes she'd never wear again

one final transfusion
to give her strength
for that one last trip
one last good bye to Heidi and the boys

as we stood on that high up wooden porch
of her treehouse
in the winter mountains
we held each other
our grief rolling down our faces

and then there was that
banana peel
brown and curled
to feed the hill

we looked into each other's eyes
and laughed 

at that 

funny 

ordinary 

sight

I will always hold on to that laugh

it was golden