Walking. Solus, with the Light-House.

~ Live & Learn

It was a week ago. An otherwise unforgettable day, but for a moment, a single firefly with its other worldly bioluminescence, which keeps circling back.

“Do you want a ride home?”

It’s a short walk home from the train station, ~2000 steps. One hour in the quiet car on Metro North didn’t quench it, the thirst for more solitude, more Alone, more decompression. I walk.

The torso leans forward, the feet step one-two-one-two.  Lean forward? A tip from a Youtube fitness coach who explained that it propels you forward. So I lean forward. If he told you to hop on your right foot and rub your stomach round and round with your left hand, you’d do it.

It’s humid. God, it’s Humid. Torso leans forward, thick air pushes back, slowing forward motion. Thunderheads build in the distance.

The neck tie is in my brief case. The slim fit button down shirt soaks up the sweat on back, arms and neck.

Black leather lace-ups wrap tighter and tighter, and pump like pistons (up, down, up, down) – a squishy, pus filled blister, like the thunderheads, is ready to explode. Humidity. Sweat. Blister.  It’s a scene out of Beau Taplin’s “Run Freely“: “Human beings are made of water. We were not designed to hold ourselves together, rather run freely like oceans, like rivers.“

I turn onto our street and head up the hill. I see the three of them in the distance. The rest of the street is quarantined inside, cooling with ceiling and floor fans, and that miracle freon stuff that creates icy cool air from nothing. They’re all hiding in front of their televisions, their silver screens, desktops, laptops, smartphones, tablets, playstations and X-boxes.

But here they were.  The three of them, alone on an empty street. Sitting together on their front porch. A beautiful young family, so wholesome, so full of hope and so full of innocence and wonder – among the torrent of lies, claims of fake news, school shootings, investigations layered on investigations.

This light-house, a single firefly illuminating the dark.

Maddie, 2.5 years old, sits next to her Mom. Phoebe, 6 months old, sits on Mom’s lap. Mom turns the pages of a large picture book. Mom slowly enunciates each word, Maddie skooches closer to her Mom.

I approach, slow my step, and take one last deliberate look. You know already – this is a scene you won’t forget.

Maddie has a stuffed animal on her lap, it’s ratty and tattered. Susan gifted the stuffed animal to her. Maddie loved Zeke’s wet kisses: “I just love you Zeke.”

Yes, she calls her stuffed animal Zeke.

And she doesn’t go anywhere without him.

And, neither do we.

Notes:

28 thoughts on “Walking. Solus, with the Light-House.”

  5. Oh David, your walk home was agonizing for all who care about you…, but out of loyalty, had to continue your trek. Then, how precious, still brings tears…Maddie, her mommy Phoebe, and Zeke! Yes, memorable, for us too!

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  11. A touching, beautiful and hurtful story, beautifully told….. Re pets: We went to a ‘irepair’ shop on Saturday to see if HH’s iPad could be saved (it can’t). Stayed for nearly an hour because I HAD to carry the owner’s 6mo old dachsie in my arms the whole time, telling the owner to sell a new one to Hero Husband just so that I could hang on to Barry a bit longer. (Couldn’t; it’s a repair shop not a sell-shop). Was licked and tail-banged all over, it was wonderful and the desire to have my own dog once more was overwhelming.
    On Sunday when we met with 2 dozens of friends for a meal and get-together, a couple told us How they felt about certain events shown on TV and wanted to know about us. We said we didn’t have TV, still …. have you forgotten (yes they had) and How can you live and not be in the Know about all of this?…. I said: We read, we listen and view stuff on YTubes and newsletters, we tell stories of our own….. Fits so well with this glorious and quiet evening event of sitting on the stairs and sharing a picture book story.
    Wish I could fave this 1000 times.

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