Friday, May 28, 2010

I can only aspire to be, me.....

You always said that I reminded you of Cecelia Parillo. She had pale skin and dark hair, I can assume, oh yes and freckles, like me. She was the girl, the one girl that, as you said "got you kicked out of the seminary" for holding hands with her. I think you realized that being a priest meant no sex, and after that enlightening moment, you left, or rather got kicked out. Once a person has decided not to be a priest, the possibilities that life has to offer open up like an oyster offering up her treasures to you.

Sunday's became a ritual of comfort and placidity. Always starting the day with a nice hot cup of tea (I always liked to have the Phantom of the Opera cup, I have my own now and I think of you often when I pour myself a cup of tea and watch the white of the phantoms mask slowly appear before me). We talked about your past adventures or your newest purchase (a whole chicken slow roaster, and herb press, a new plant) then usually we would head off the the farmers market, sometimes with friends, but it was always the time we shared alone that was my favorite. We were never hurried, always taking our time. Enjoying the conversation and each others company while the smell of cinnamon and cloves always and forever permeated the air.

Sometimes the pet rescue would be there and you would lovingly pick up a puppy and snuggle with it. The coffee vendor would be there and the herb lady... I bought chocolate mint and one of the many varieties of lavender that she offered to plant in my herb garden, but my most prized herb was the plain and angry stinging nettle plant. It was the only one that survived the fires that year. The bread makers wares wafted through and through the market air, tinging the fall air with warmth and the comfortable smell of herbs. The produce sellers always had a table piled high with beautiful mixed greens, so tender and colorful. The fountain worked at that time. It has long since broken, I dont even think it exists anymore. It would be the same fountain I would eventually meet my husband next to.

Just being with you stilled my mind and soul. I miss you....the sound of you and feel of you, listening to your stories and your easy going nature....the scent of you lingers............

No comments:

Post a Comment