empty chair, empty, there

 

she was supposed to be here, 

sitting in that empty chair there, 

as the dog sleeps behind her on the carpet. 

having eaten her hot dog with her mother's homemade chili, having chatted with her grandparents for the first time in person since last summer,

having had her nails done in pretty princess pink

and found gold slippers that don't hurt her feet,

to go with the dress we bought her in new york last month. 

was supposed to be talking to me 

while her husband ate the marinated shrimp he loves 

while her dad gets her hugs for father's day.

but she didn't get here. 

two canceled flights and $100 cab ride for naught 

left them anxious about trying yet another 

and left me (and her dad) once again more than disappointed 

that sometimes it seems NYC just won't let their displaced southerners 

go

so instead of a house full of people 

and the chance to watch my daughter 

watch her friend since 4th grade tie the knot this afternoon,

i will spend my evening wishing she were here

and wiping my eyes, imagining the two of them in their 

 stoplight halloween costumes 

or as a diamond and spade

in a deck of life-sized cards the year after that.

that will be me, looking at her empty chair knowing

just how much she would love the flowers, 

imagining her smile and her bare feet on the dance floor 

with her husband and her high school friends. 

and she will be wondering and texting and calling 

but will have to wait for my pictures 

to see just how much the groom looks like her husband, 

and how the bride's wedding gown

looks so much like her own.