The restaurant provided the atmosphere.
A table.
Glasses sweating under dim lights.
Plates of food slowly going cold
because we kept talking.
About dreams.
About the stupid beautiful things
people are afraid to want.
You once again finding
your personality.
The one of motion,
packed bags and open roads.
The kind of mornings
where you don’t quite know
what is next.
I laughed,
because it had been a while
since I heard you talk like that
without apologizing for it.
Somewhere between the first drink
and the sun setting,
something in me relaxed.
A quiet electricity
running through me.
The kind that makes you drive home
with the windows down.
Thinking maybe,
just maybe,
the best part
of life isn’t something
that already happened to you.
Maybe it’s still
leaning forward,
waiting for you to say yes.
birthday surprise
After taking flowers to the graveside today, I wound up driving around town a bit as errands were run.
Wound up at Crosstown, which is a common occurrence. And today it just seemed appropriate. After all, it is the reason she arrived in Memphis as a child, where mom and dad met and where the story of me began.
Stumbled across a set of doors I had not seen open to the public before and found the elevator that mom and dad met on back in the day. I know it was that elevator because I remember the location when I got a tour of the old Sears building before it became Crosstown Concourse.
That in itself would be cool, but there is also a framed picture with her in it just outside the elevator doors. Still there in the place she met dad and a happy little hello today from her to me on her birthday.