now

The repeated ringing of the phone demanded that I interrupt what I was doing to pay it some mind, listen to whatever news the caller had to deliver. Hearing of the passing of my suite mate from senior year in undergrad made the gloominess of the day fall into place. As I hung up the receiver, I heard her spirited gravelly voice, her raspy but girlish giggle, her dreams that every so often came true, maybe not as often as she had hoped. I was reminded of a conversation I had earlier in the day as my Dad spoke of his friends who had gone on, people who I had known since I was less than knee high to their knees -- it doesn’t matter what the age, the loss of a friend or loved one even when expected knocks the wind out of our sails now, maybe each time we recall...

  

The kite festival is an annual event that for some reason I have only been to once in the eleven years since I moved back to DC; I love kites, used to visit my favorite bed and breakfast in Spring Lake, NJ during the off season just so I could sit in solitude on the beach, unfurl mine and let my thoughts drift from hand to string as they soared off into the blue sky for the universe to hear. The festivities were postponed a couple of weeks ago due to bad weather, today is the day to go flying. And though I don’t know where my kite is, I do know that every “right now” is all we have so I’m off with string curled around my fingers to remember while my dreams take to the air and I whisper ciao toots…

keep your peepers open!®