I took the train into my old neighborhood this afternoon. My dad needed a hand to get some stuff done and I was looking forward to helping him.
He always greets me with a smile, but these days his smile is softened by a patina of loss, and there's a melancholy that hangs in the air around us when we embrace.
When the cancer my mom valiantly fought finally won out last summer, and she slipped from this world to the next, we all took it hard but none more so than my dad. So I look forward to days like today when I step into the house I grew up in, the house my folks made a home for my brother and me, and feel her presence and her joy of life all throughout.
The sunlight was streaming through the train window as it hurtled past old familiar landmarks, touchstones of my youth, places the four of us would go to, spots that hold warm memories, and the warmth of that light felt very fine as it fell on my face. I thought I'd try to capture that feeling and was surprised to see rainbow streaks across my face in the result. Perhaps I shouldn't have been.
My mom and dad were together for almost 50 years and he misses her terribly.
I miss her terribly too...