Thursday, April 10, 2008

From the Memories of a Twelve Year Old

Tonight I felt a wind that carried me back to when I was twelve.

A porch swing hung in front of my bedroom window. I thought of it as mine. As the sun bid farewell to our part of the Earth later and later, I sat on the swing enjoying the Spring air of Florida. I wouldn't have been able to say then, but I know now that the temperature hovered in the low 70's. A breeze out of the south laden with moisture from the Gulf of Mexico curled my hair as it lifted it from my shoulders. Then, I imagined a beau sharing the swing.

At the age of 37 as I paused while walking the dogs to enjoy the breeze longer, I heard a voice that I have not heard for nearly two years. It whispered to me, "Isn't this paradise?"

Yes, Dad. It is.

4 comments:

Michelle said...

awww, that is a beautiful memory. I know this is TMI, but...your story actually makes me jealous. I have NO memories like that, my Dad was in prison most of my childhood. What I would give to go back in time and rewrite history, just to hear one gentle and loving normal thing from him. I am so happy that you have such wonderful memories.

Sarabeth said...

Thanks, Michelle. The good memories keep me going, but they also have a way of making me cry. This night, though, only smiles followed me home.

Kell said...

Lovely lovely lovely!

Angela: mom2girlsgirlsgirls: said...

Beatifully written. Thanks for sharing.