All that was missing was the subtle smell of wood smoke. The crisp morning air was just enough to tingle the end of my nose when I breathed in, the clear sky promising a warm day ahead. The pink hue of early dawn had wrapped its beauty around my soul and asked me to stop my busy feet and enjoy the moment.
I carried my steaming mug of fresh brewed coffee outside onto the deck. I say fresh brewed because I have a thing for a good cup of coffee. It’s my drug of choice and daily companion. I’ve stopped apologizing to all the nay-sayers out there who love to quote the newest studies saying how bad it is, mucks up your insides and makes your teeth and hair fall out. Ok, I’m exaggerating but I know you get the picture. I’ve decided to stop listening.
My eyes close so that my heart is open to see. Birds singing to each other high in the Spruce trees makes me smile for a moment. The wind whispers through branches just beginning to gain strength after a long winter, ruffling my already out of place hair. It’s in the relaxing that it overwhelms me.
There are few similarities so I’m not sure why. A moment in time so long passed that it had ceased to exist, or so I thought. The merest wisp of memory that had floated into my subconscious in the cool of the morning, minus the wood smoke. Africa.
A heavy sadness fills up my chest cavity to the point that I am afraid I will sink through the flimsy material on my chair and split the deck as I fall. Inaudible, untraceable, so sad that my whole being ached to reveal its source.
I had shut that part of my life off like a kitchen faucet many years ago and now that I wanted to test the water again, not even a dribble would come out. I couldn’t grasp the essence…I was sure wood smoke would have unlocked the door.
Tears threatened to well up and make my signature chin wobble. Our family has a long line of unique chins which have been handed down generationally, my generation included. I push the tears back, they are not allowed to slip between the crease of my closed eyes.
I wonder…if just once, I would let the glistening drops fall, what story would be told? Would the dam break? I take a deep breath to help me relax. Hesitant and afraid of what is going to be undone, I decide to let one get away.