An Early Summer Sunday

June 27, 2010

An early summer Sunday.

I remember that morning.

In fits and starts.

Through a haze and in pieces, moments, vignettes.

The first words.

Mom at the table.

John through the curtain of the side door window,

while Dave tried gently but knowing it would break his heart.

Taking off - going for a bike ride.

A moment of what? Hopelessness? Despair? Or curiosity? Luckily just a thought.

Amazed that a mile and a half away word had already spread faster than my ride.

And then the days. The daze.

Family, food, people’s faces in and out.

A camper in the driveway for overflow.

Seeing him there.

Watching shoulders heave.

Tears and tissues and stories.

Flowers. A Frisbee.

Mass

Friends

Hackie Sak.

And then a family “vacation.”

And a fight.

And a walk.

And home to a table piled over with cards, letters, sympathy, and love.

Everything. EVERYTHING changed.

An early summer Sunday morning and 27 years gone by.