Near Miss

When I drove by your house last year, I didn't even know  it was you I was looking for.  I only felt the joy and acceptance which had been a part of our childhood when I looked at that side door.  Never imagined your parents were still there- wish now I had stopped by.  I drove through the apartments where I had delivered the weekly newspaper. I saw the house at the end of my street - remember the one where they gave out hot chocolate and hot dogs for Halloween- one year we went there twice.  I got out of my car and looked into that drainage culvert- remember when the rain would be heavy and that water was churning and deep?  I could envision us climbing down the cement walls and crawling around the grate.  I like the other part of the creek better- where we would catch crawdads and you could smell fresh cut grass wafting through the air.

I drove by my house, as though seeing those brick pillars would give me a moment of connection to my dad.  I've been trying to find that version of myself- the bold and unafraid one- for quite some time and I hoped that seeing the place where I saw her last would help.

I went to the Reyburn's house and talked with one of the boys- the pool where we played sharks and minnows and Marco Polo a zillion times still looked the same. 

I have such beautiful memories of that time and that place in our lives. My gosh, no wonder I thought the world wouldn't hurt me- we lived a wonderous life.

Tonight, though, I wonder if my friend is right: if I would have slowed down, would I have seen things differently.  I don't like to torture myself with "what-ifs" but they do make me thankful that I said yes to dinner and discovered the miracle of falling in love with my friend.

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