I poked my head through the door this morning, intending just to peek, but feeling the morning air I had to step outside. Beyond our threshold I visited the past. The air was cool, damp even. The light had the calmer, weightier feel of a late August morning, there was a scent of endings. I padded to the edge of the porch and felt the cool planks beneath my bare feet, the morning air crept beneath my shirt and I drew a deep breath.
It was 9 years earlier, before kids, before New York. Summer was loping to a slumber, the intense, whirlwind days of June and July were past and the melancholy of another season’s close was seeping in. The memories of my time took root and though I didn’t know it at the time, I was both meeting and saying goodbye to my future.
This morning, while my husband and my babies slept I traveled back in time. I kissed a boy, who back then was just my baby.
The last statement is so true… It's funny to me to think back on when my Shawn was just a boy. And in some ways he still is, I s'pose ~ perhaps we'll never feel like grownups.
I was there too.
Miss you my friend.
Evocative post, my friend.
Yep. I'm going to try to capture some of that over the next two days. I owe him my life. My baby.
This is amazing.
Remember pushing that old Izuzu pickup of mine after the starter crapped out? That's what I remember about Williamstown mornings…
That and the damn crows.
Glad you're still there to give me a push when I need it.