Beltway

A Story by Perdition

A repost

It is a strange and eerie feeling when these moments find you:

I was driving into a child’s hypnosis… early morning “beltway”. It was two hours and a lifetime more through traffic to get back home.

My mind wanders when and where it will, through the outlines and when the fade begins to work. I cast my daffodil-ick seeds somewhere out along the acidic tars and beneath the garden of lonely gods, rushing my way slowly toward the heaven of home.

Too often it hurts more than planned when people I love I am forced to leave with a breath beneath my throat.

I find my course tendered; my way obstructed towards a youth of home… but then “it” happens…eminent subjectivity:

Exit 9… I look up. The morning clear casts the rumbling of F-15’s; Their precocious precision diving me through the gaited skies of Andrew.

Instantly… I am shot.

My hands clasp and the wheel slips towards a simpler time. A place when my father stood in uniform and I stood inches from the sky. I remember the view. I felt as if I could crawl inside a Kodak cinema. I was holding his hand tightly. Rushing young age into an airshow. He was moving slow because it was HIS weekend. These simple things we never understand until we discover them later. We never realize what is cleverly obvious. My room then was a temple to the Air Force. My father was conglomerate; Captain Kirk and Elvis Presley.

I suppose he still is; only now I’ve traveled too many roads to see him as anything other than "Dad", I now look upon his years and see him as the “Father” I have always loved and known. This is something far deeper I feel.

What those jets did to me that morning I can’t explain but I know tears rattled into my heart and my smile surpassed the boom. My father is now 79 with a sore of peace and pace-maker and I find myself checking the clock more often then not… just quietly wondering. I don’t want to ever take these days for granted anymore.

I race my way home to the cold distance of our phones. My mother laughs and tells me he is out on his tractor. I relayed the message looking back into Mr. Mesmer where somewhere along that circle of beltway, my memory still remains and my father’s hands grow in strength. It was then that I realized how strange a moment can be when these dust of memories return.

© 2018 Perdition

Author's Note

Something special to me I wanted to share for the Holidays

My Review

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Reviews

barleygirl

I'm still catching up on my reading library, but your story is precious, even tho it's not the holidays anymore! I felt this started out a little abstract, which is what I expect from you, so I start wondering if I'll be able to follow your star-spangled idea flow. Surprisingly your message takes a turn into down-home sentimentality that takes me by surprise. I love the way this is show instead of tell. I love how you give us glimpses of all the ways this connection is touching to you. From an abusive father myself, it's hard to reach me, when it comes to sentimental father pieces. But I have to admit, I really felt the genuine way you expressed your feelings here & it's very beautiful (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 5 Years Ago

5 Years Ago

Hahaha...so backed up from the injury to my right arm I might just have to let it go. And still heal.. read more

Gypsy Warrior Queen

So are you the cause of my stained neck and back or am I the cause of your pinched nerve and paralysis...the empathy is getting thick in here! Sharing does that to us wile e coyote souls in here. This is a very different one and so I do know that it must be special. I want to cry when I read it though, the tears dont surface and I want to run away or sit at the side of the road and watch the headlights...it leaves me with the feeling i dont quite understand, so indeed unique to you maybe...or something i have never felt...odd for me

Posted 5 Years Ago

5 Years Ago

slowly getting the feeling back in my right arm,,damn trauma...but at least I can type again...somew.. read more

lightsong

THIS is the kind of "poetry" ok "stories" I want to read more from You, very heartfelt my friend, deeply. an surely written in Your own style, I think most of us have been in that moment, each in their own ways and circumstances, who knows why sometimes that moment wakes up late? but it's never too late it is? never late to tell the ones You love how much You love them, be grateful for their presences in Your life, wonderful piece, and thank You for sharing something yes SO special with us. and now I MUST wish You Wondrous Holidays, and for Your loved ones too, Your mother and father, may they stay beside You as long as it can be, healthy and happy!

Posted 5 Years Ago

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5 Years Ago

Hey...Thank you Light...I will respond to your other wonderful reviews as well,,just dealing with a .. read more

5 Years Ago

*me.......

5 Years Ago

Gosh! and 30 minutes! so sorry to hear that, please take care of Your self and get better soon, try.. read more

Alisa Js

Happy Holidays to you and your lovely family, P....

Thank you for sharing this beautiful memory. Memories like these are golden... and will stand the test of time, for all time into eternity. They are worth far more than gold as you can cherish them at will.

I remember a time when I left my father sitting at the airport on a particular day when I flew to Hawaii to live with my Mother when I was a teenager. I remember thinking as I got ready to board the plane, that I'd come back for him, take care of him... be there for him always, as he had been there for me.

How did I know then, that would be the last time I ever saw him on this side of eternity?

We don't.

A poignant reminder to savor those moments....each and every one.

Wishing you well, as always... .from out here, somewhere in the middle of the deep, blue Pacific... in a new place, a different place... a quiet yet, very tranquil place.

Alisa ;-)