Sentimental JourneyDecember 1st, 2012 | Posted by in Family | Fantasy | Joy | Love | Reflections
Home again… arising early
I wander through my parents’ house
in search of memories.
In the pantry are the small clear glasses
hand-painted with tulips.
Instinctively I lift one to my lips,
almost tasting the Seven-up my grandfather
used to pour, remembering how the fizz
tickled my nose, grandpa’s laughter.
I imagine him standing there wearing
his felt hat and checkered flannel shirt,
puffing on his long stemmed pipe.
But too soon, the image fades, as set in the past
as the tulips are in their glass prisons.
From a dusty shelf in the den I retrieve
the old Currier and Ives, copyrighted 1952.
Through its pages I’d traveled America,
journeying by steamboat down the
Mississippi, flat boating the Ohio River,
riding the rail to California. Always
enjoying my imaginative adventures,
always thirsting for more.
Wistfully I close the book, leaving its
people and places, now slightly faded,
to a future wanderer.
Photographs crowd the living room,
each one caressing a memory-my birth,
birthdays, school days, first date…
every event cascading for eternity in
wood and glass.
The floorboard creaks as my mother
enters the kitchen. I hasten to greet her
blinking back the tears. Our eyes meet
and we smile, scattering the memories
amongst a million dreams, the air
shimmering with the essence of their
beauty as they surrender, each one
to its designated place.
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