Ode To Yesterday

It is Sunday: a spring day so pristine and promising that to stay inside might be a rejection of new life. Yet I am tired from yesterday’s going forth. I set out early, no dear little dogs attached to my arm. For once, I was not a creature of several minds – numerous arms, legs, and noses. It felt very strange, limbs freely moving in response to a torso all my own. My head was balanced on a tension-free neck and shoulders. Eyes looked  out on a pristine world, perhaps reflecting the fresh green leaf-life surrounding me.  Walking over the harbor bridge, my freedom is a vital reality on this Saturday morning. I thought to myself:  This could be Paris. This bridge spans a flowing expanse of water, its surface aglitter with universal diamonds, and I am striding free and clear of the usual burdens.  Below me the shrimpboats/houseboats line the banks; I can almost see wind-blown laundry dancing – flower pots bursting with blooms. My feet connect briefly, rebounding to carry me forward, and my whole being dances to the music of who I am.  For a while, I completely forget that ahead of me lies a destination.

I was on my way to The Little Children’s Park to meet my son, Vanja, and my three-year-old granddaughter, Julia, for a community Easter egg hunt. As it came into sight, a loudspeaker crackled to life and a voice bellowed directions to the three, four, and five-year-olds. Their parents were meant to guide them in their chaotic hunt for colored plastic eggs full of candy treats. I pushed  through the hordes, catching sight of my tall, handsome son and the blonde curls and yellow dress of his little daughter. They seemed to be an island at the center of a heaving sea. The first egg found appears to have been enough. She saw me and smiled, releasing a thread of chocolatey drool from her beautiful mouth. As I kneeled at her feet, she pushed what was left of a tootsie roll between my lips. Julia always shares, and I can’t help wondering if a remnant of my fanciful walk across a Paris bridge was shared in turn.


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