Our sneakers kick up the dry sand, as the sweat falls down our faces.
We are on our second run of the weekend and it feels like we
are doing what we should be doing. At least to me it does.
We take it slow, a step at a time. Not much more than that -
and certainly nothing less. We're runners after all. Aren't we?
We talk a bit. Too much for you, but not nearly enough for me.
Together we cover the essentials and then, to distract ourselves from the heat, we chat
about a whole layer of fluffy stuff.
Mostly, my feet shuffle along and I'm enjoying being with you.
Running by your side
and I am with you.
Trailing behind
and I am with you.
Handing you the water bottle
and I am with you.
our heads and enjoy where we are heading.
On occasion, but not too often,
we gaze back at where we've come from.
While our talking brings comfort, it is the silence that brings us even more.
The shuffling of our feet and the deep breathing from our souls provide the backdrop for what I enjoy the most of all... the passing of this time. With you.
***
On this day, during this beautiful run with you, my thoughts shift to Uncle Vince.
How could he be gone?
How Can I Be Saying Goodbye to Uncle Vince, When I Feel Like I Just Met Him?
Into the depths of my throat I can feel the pain well from the inside. It is that
burning pain deep in my throat that triggers the tears from the bottom corners of my eyes.
Here they come again.
Warm teardrops fill my eyes and fall to the sand as I run.
My feet swish rhythmically in the sand below. My nose begins to drip.
You don't see any of this because it is far too hot outside
and we really shouldn't be running at this hour of the day anyway, and you're in front of me powering through it all... and because of all this,
I have the privacy I need to
say over and over and over in my mind:
Dear Vince, I discovered you too late.
It is my Uncle Vince who reminded me just last week - days before he succumbed to cancer,
that he was taking each day - day by day, and that each day was a gift.
Perhaps, the most simplest of all life's lessons.
Was it not just yesterday that the kids and I hunkered down in our cozy bed on a "snow day" to chat with Uncle Vince on the phone and to spend hours coloring pictures to send to him to cheer him up? How could he possibly be gone?
Wasn't it just yesterday that he reminded me that "everyone needs a ' My Uncle Vinnie'." (Just like the movie, My Cousin Vinnie ....
Tonight I sit alone thinking that everyone just might need a My Uncle Vinnie,
who is with them.
***
I soon shift out of my solemn thoughts to take note of the passing
driveways, songbirds, and occasional landscaping trucks.
With a sweep of my arm, I wipe my nose and my tears.
You run silently in front. Once again and always my leader.
We are more than half way to the south shore.
We are doing it.
We are running
and I am with you.
Our sneakers kick up the dry, soft sand and the salty, saturated sweat falls down from our brows.
To replace the tears perhaps?
Even if for a few moments.
I breathe in the heavy sea air, the waves crash in the distance, and I find comfort in realizing that
these are the days my Uncle Vince spoke about.
These are the days that are the gifts to be treasured.
The gifts I enjoy the most of all, when I am with you....
and you
and you...
and you, beautiful...
and of course, you guys too.
