Back home...a patch on my left breast, a cup of wine by my right. The air is cooler than I'd expected, not stopping my body whole with its humidity. I got away this weekend, and saw my family with new eyes. It was the first time in a long time we were active together, cooking together, watching depressing movies together, drinking together, laying in the sun together. My father and I took grandpa to the beach, (Ma wouldn't go, her skins to thin she says), and walked him slowly with our arms holding him up down to where the water meets the sand. Each step his furrowed brow raised a little, relaxing, until we got the the water and it rushed the sand up, burying his ankles, that he smiled. I have always been able to make him smile, but it's work and always has been. Today though, with the sun and my hand in his, holding him up, I truly felt my age, my heart, my whole being. I felt the joy he felt and it was my own and for a few minutes there, I loved my father whole too. I asked him questions all weekend, trying to get him to talk even though he hates it, I asked him what him and ma talked about on their first date and he laughed,
"I told her I didn't like her red hair and if she wanted to keep me she'd change it!"
"And what did she say?"
"Well, the next week it was black."
I hope I remember these things and I guess one day I'll ask the same questions of my own parents. I realized I don't know where they went to school, who influenced them, how they used to live. I want to know these things. I hope my kids will ask me these things.
I am home now, and I feel at ease, glad for my family and all their demands. And I've quit smoking, today, the first day since August that I've gone without a cigarette. I can do this, I'll just keep doing my dance and sing "I don't wanna cigarette, I don't wanna cigarette! I don't wanna die!" each time a craving kicks me in the ass, and they do,
Created: Jan 19, firstname.lastname@example.org Document Media