And He Waved Again The details, the details The moments, the smallest of moments I was sitting on my bed Putting on my socks Getting ready to go to work “Hey Dad”, he said “Can you take me to school? “Are you ready to go now?” “Can we go in fifteen minutes?” “OK, but I have a meeting to make by eight”. I spooned down a bowl of cereal Then said, “C’mon buddy, it’s time to go. Where are your shoes? I’m running out of time.” “Buckle up,” I said as the engine mumbled and groaned. “Wait, where’s your trumpet? Seriously, you forgot your trumpet?” “Now do you have everything? Is your head zipped on? C’mon get in Let’s go.” “Anything special happening at school today?” I asked along the way. “How do I know Dad We’re not even there yet.” “Who is winning the kickball tournament?” “Not us, we suck.” “What night is the band concert next week?” “I don’t know Dad. Why do you keep asking me so many questions?” I surrendered and turned up Howard Stern. No more words between us, thoughts about work Crept into my head. “Dad! Turn here!” I slammed the brakes then turned into the drive and pulled up towards the school. My eleven-year old fifth grader Got his things and closed the door. He waved good-bye Then turned and walked away. Then he turned around And he waved again And the look on his face… That moment That moment was absent of time That moment I laughed and I cried And when he will not go to bed at night And when he is slow to find his shoes And when he plays the silent game And when he acts like he’s two I remember, He waved again He waved again…