Saying Good-bye

he always took her to the station,
parking illegally in the bank parking lot
so he could unload her suitcases
and walk her down the sidewalk
towards the bus, ask her if she had
her ticket, her ID, some money
and hold back his tears as he
watched her get on the bus
and select the same seat she always
picked, on the other side of the
aisle, about half way down.
then he always walked to the
end of the pull-through driveway
so when the bus emerged from the
station, he could wave good-bye,
barely able to see her wave back
through the tinted windows.
he watched the bus disappear down
the road, walked back to his car
and drove home to the empty house.
Saying good-bye never got
any easier, no matter how much
he practiced.