Tuesday, April 10, 2018

home

I left Florida at 8:15. We were supposed to meet at a local eatery at 10 for a farewell breakfast but I was anxious to get on the road.

With some lollygagging and disrespecting the navigator in my phone, I was fed, relaxed and the car was gassed up when I pulled in to my driveway about 5.  I just had to get off the freeway!

Before I did, I passed a huge tractor trailer all done up in a magnificent graphics wrap. I didn't have the wits to drive and snap a picture. It was the equipment transporter for the Stoneman Douglas Band - the Eagle Regiment.

As I passed it, I stuck my fist through the moonroof in solidarity and the driver acknowledged with a blast of the air horn. I was filled with an as-yet-unnamed feeling. I'm sure the French have one perfect word. It lifted me up, away from myself for a while, but then I couldn't help but think about the families, the loved ones left behind.

Then came the tristesse. I rolled with that one and let it take me to tears. Everytime I travel, I have the sudden realization that Jimmy will not be waiting for me when I get home. That's a facet of myself as real and permanent as a tattoo.

4 comments:

  1. The fist in the air1
    The realization of coming home to absence.
    (((((sighe)))))

    ReplyDelete
  2. he was still there, though....wasn't he. Like he always was

    ReplyDelete
  3. Your words bring me to tears--every time

    ReplyDelete

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