(see nervous) for part I
I cut my car engine and wait here at the curb beside the corner grocery.
It looks abandoned, this store, with boards where the windows should be, no ads and a couple of bricks littering the sidewalk before the gated door.
But it's merely closed this morning, 9AM too early for the usual shoppers of cigarettes, blunts and cheap wine.
My window cracked slightly, I hear the weaving of birdsong with the bridge traffic overhead.
I strain to see the faces of the men too far ahead for my eyes to focus. I notice their walks, their clothes and shoes as I try to find my son among them.
THERE!
All others fade to ghosts as I watch him --- that bounce step he uses when he's being tough.
He's grinning, but being cool as he hops in, instructing me to turn around in the empty lot, and we're off.
He looks OK; healthy, but tense.
His jaw clenches and he's biting his lip.
Not a lot of conversation -- we don't need words as love spills out and fills the car.
I wait as he keeps his appointment.
Afterward, he's more relaxed...... even jokes a bit as we fill his remaining free time with lunch, meeting his sister along the way.
Time speeds as it does when you want to savor the moment.
Flash
and the moment's gone.
he's walking away and I'm sighing.
I watch as he gets smaller, then blurry from my tears:
he vanishes around the corner and I can hold him no more.
Not even im my sight.
No longer can I hear the birds. I'm not a piece of this city scape, but an obstacle by the curb... out of place.
I drive away and sigh.
(see Nervous Part III)
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Comments: 10
In this forum, the jumpy - flash way you jotted down your 'right this moment' thoughts lends to the emotions behind them and is not a distraction.
Love ya' Ma!
All of you are very supportive. My son is brilliant, and it is killing him. May he embrace life.