Days to Remember 81/365
by Girl Gone Domestic
Waking up to sunshine. A morning text, my Dad asking, “What are you doing today?” An invitation.
The schoolbooks close and we prepare.
We meet with a dear girl cousin for Hannah to spend the day with. Conversation in the car. Being treated to lunch. Iced coffee.
We let the road take us, just like when I was a girl. He taught me that.
We reach a destination, and it is just where we should be on a day like today.
A kite in the sky, the clouds looking like cotton balls.
And the sun, how I’ve missed it.
They slide and slide and slide. Then he lifts them and helps them spin on the spinning thing, they beg for him to do it again and again.
He lets the pretend pirate rob him of a quarter, and then he gets robbed again by another. And when the robber loses his loot, he reaches into his pocket and gives him another.
Sweatshirts and sunglasses. The wind blowing my hair. Rolled pants and wet, sandy toes.
And photos, lots of photos. He taught me that too.
The ride home. Three sleepy little heads. Stories of his boyhood, in which friends have names like Chuckie Pickins.
He makes the boys laugh, because he was a boy once too.
We barely miss traffic, getting us home in time to start dinner.
These are the days I will always remember. These are the days they will always remember.
These are the stories they will tell their children and grandchildren when they let the road take them, just like they learned when they were kids.