I remember when I used to scour the stores looking for just the right basket. And when I found that, I went hunting for the just the right gift. What was it they were into at that particular time, in that particular year? Their whims changed with the wind and turned me into a weather vane, always pointing in a different direction.
It gave me untold pleasure to follow their beckoning. I would hide to arrange everything in their baskets just so. And then hide the baskets themselves until that Saturday night when I had to stay up and wait till they were sound asleep. Only then could I sneak into their rooms and place the basket where it would be the first thing their eyes would light upon come Easter morning.
Those days, those moments are now filed away in my memory banks. They are images of times past, marching before my eyes like clips of a movie collage. I needn’t worry anymore about constructing the perfect Easter morning surprise. Now they surprise me. Now they give to me. The most precious of all gifts.
My granddaughter Carmen (for some reason reminding me of Carmen Miranda).
After having spent the last four weeks traveling, to the country in the Deep South and then to the southernmost point of the country itself, I’m tired. Tired but grateful I was able to spend time with my family, and time away from the rut and routine one falls into. Almost without noticing.
These photos serve to remind me not to forget. That life is rich, if you make it so.
A view of Key West. What a beautiful island.
I was shocked to see how long my hair had gotten. When did that happen? This picture was taken at the Botanical Garden. The bell is made out of an oxygen tank, they say, and was donated by Yoko Ono.
At Papa’s. Hemingway Home and Museum. It was surreal walking through it.
One of Papa’s 45 six-toed cats that own the place, descendents from his cat Snowball. I wish I had caught this one’s name. The cats don’t allow the roaming tourists to disturb their naps. You find them curled up in all sorts of places.
Of course, the Atlantic Ocean. Gives one pause. I picked up some washed up coral rock. They will make perfect paper weights. And weigh my thoughts as well.
Sunset at the southernmost point. A wondrous sight. And then it was back to reality. I suppose I had to return sometime.
While my turkey roasts, and the cooking smells suffuse my house, I am able to enjoy a few minutes of quiet before my kids descend on me. And gives me time to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. Something I try to do every day, give thanks that is.