thoughts from a beach chair

Bathing suit.  Sun screen.  Beach chair.  Alone.  :)  I love to lay in the sun mostly naked and feel the sudden flush of heat as the water in my body seeps out of every pore.  Today is going to be a good day.       

The beach chair smells a little funky.  It's probably been 2 summers since its been removed from the musty crawl space.  It smells of dirt and rust and hot.  

I hate to admit that I hate every person I know today... and every one I don't.  I woke up cranky and need to learn to not log into facebook on those days.  I have had 3 Libras in my head since.  Its been difficult for me to find the space in between where I fit.  Fit easily and securely and without question every time.  Though I suppose there never is a place that is completely without question.

This will be my first summer in 4 without an adventure laid out in front of me.  I wonder what will become of the road trips, the anticipation, the butterflies, the "cd of the summer" with the indelible impressions of great adventures.  I guess I'll have to make my own and fly a little more spontaneously.  With only a hint of sadness, the disappointment abounds and I realize my heart is still there, buried safe and scabby.  But the sun is hot on my skin and I'm slowly relaxing one muscle and one thought at a time.



I remember our toilet flushing, light flickering ghost.


I remember the Providence Potato Heads.


I can still feel your warmth as you held me in the kitchen when I was unable to hold back the tears any longer.  


I see our sundresses and floppy hats on our trip through Sonoma Valley while the east coast was digging out of a blizzard.


I remember the ease with which you handed me your car keys for me to drive myself back home 2 states away.


I remember our cinnamon snow falling in slow motion outside the old man bar.


And the energetic smile in your voice over the phone for our first conversation in 15 years and the taste of your cigarettes after our first visit in 20 years.


And I remember seven goodbyes.... all different and all taking their own little piece of me with them.  I'm getting used to it all.

But mostly I like to remember that goodbyes don't always happen and sometimes aren't forever and even if they are there's always that look on your face that first time you saw me out on the sidewalk in my best sundress.