I watched my father walking down the beach today. He had on his straw cowboy hat and his too tight white tee shirt. I tried to look to see his face. I wanted to see his face again. He kept his head turned ever so slightly. My father had on a metal detector and was walking with this kid. He looked to be nineteen and was wearing a crew cut. I noticed the kid also was the same complexion as my father. The boy looked like me when I was nineteen. They were in a conversation. I wish I could have heard what they were saying. I watched his arm slide back and forth over the sand as he talked to this boy. I wish I could have heard his voice. I know this man that imitated my father was about fifty six and the boy was around nineteen. I could see the man telling the boy something he just wouldn't remember. Wisdom was in the old mans words. Disinterest was in the boys ears. I wonder if I imagined them. If, with hundreds of people around, I imagined myself in youth walking with my father days before he left... I started to cry. Nobody had noticed when I apologized. I don't know why I apologized. I took a swim and tried to forget...
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
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That would have been awesome. I'm not sure how I would have reacted. Probably frozen in time.
ReplyDeleteI have to say that your talent for writing has really blossomed in your grief. Keep the posts coming! You have such amazing talent!
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