I shined my little boy's boots this morning, just like my Dad used to do with his boots. Funny how small things can transport you back in time. I don't know how many times I watched this ritual of my father's. The smell of the polish, the brush...meticulous attention to detail. It seemed that he found a bit of calmness in such an ordinary act. This memory proves a certain continuity to life, and helps me find a way to hold my father close. Today this memory gives me comfort....I recently lost him. Sometimes memories get in the way, but not today. I may be getting to the point where I can afford memories, and not recoil. Floating around on rough seas, I feel grateful to realize that land exists out there somewhere.
Tonight my best fella is going to put those boots on, and take me to a dance. I can't wait to hold his little hand, see that smile; he looks a lot like me, and Dad. I need to show him how to shine his shoes...because life isn't always easy.
