Sparkles

I think about this and that as I walk in silence, again alone.
I pass the Mountains, into the Desert, through the Cities and across the Ocean.
All of the places I have been.

I come to what once must have been a garden, mostly just weeds now.
Someone had planted here, cultured the earth, watered the plants and picked them
with pride. Had they been flowers or had they been vegetables?
Did it make any difference now?
At least I am still curious.

I seem to walk like this each day now, I see and hear the same things and
remember each place I walk through, although I’m sure by now my memory
has dimmed considerably.
But, sometimes, only sometimes, something sparkles through as clear as the
moment it took place. The Sun sinks lower in the sky but I walk a little further,
around and around with my Leg starting to throb.
I don’t want to stop now because my thoughts have centered on a
romance in my life and I want to keep it alive for just another few steps.

Finally, the pain takes over my thoughts, so I slowly walk toward the back door
of the small home I now live in. It looks so far away and I wonder again,
how many walks are left.

The big homes are gone, the wonderful fishing trips have past, watching
my children grow has long been over.
But, I can still walk and I can still remember.
At this time in my life, the most valuable thing left for me is remembering.
Is this really the way it someday becomes for everyone?

Suddenly a new sparkle lights my mind. I see my oldest son Bobby near the pier
and struggles with his surfboard headed toward the surf.
It was the 60s and his hair hung halfway down his back.
Beautiful blond hair bleached by the hot California sun.
I would load his surfboard in the back of my pickup truck right along with
the 2,000 newspapers I would soon deliver to my young newscarriers in
Huntington Beach. They would then fold them and load them in their bags
that were hooked on their bicycle handle bars and deliver them to each
subscriber on their paper route.

I had found an old Dodge pickup for this part of my job as a District Manager
and I mean old. If I remember correctly it was a 32.
Boy, Bobby was a great kid and fine athlete till he hurt his knees.

As soon as the sparkle came it vanished and I saw the back door.
Now only a few more steps for this old tired leg.
Just one more sparkle today please..
I wanted Lori back for a moment. The daughter that forgot about me
somewhere along the way.
I did know in my heart; it was my fault I lost her.
Would I ever get another chance?
Doubt it now.

But no, not today, no more sparkles.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, another sparkle will come tomorrow.
I look so forward to each sparkles appearance, sometimes
they come, sometimes they are not ready I guess.
Life’s adventures are down to the walk and maybe a sparkle
but they sure were not that way not so long ago.
Is this really the way it someday becomes for everyone?

Written for my Son, Bobby and my Daughter Lori.
Maybe, somehow she will read it someday.

©Bobby Smith 2003

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