Posts Tagged: relationship


We drove down to the lake stopping for coffee along the way.  From the back seat my sweet little boy sang the Macedonian version of “Ring Around the Rosy”, which is a lot less doom and gloom, but still kinda dark.    I find it amazing that a child can sing such a song with a history of being about the Bubonic Plaugue yet it still sounds so innocent.

Earlier in the day, I drove down to the lake with all the kids.  I took them to the old Go-Kart place that I used to frequent as a child.  The wind was rough in the afernoon, but–by the time that my father, David, and I returned– it had calmed down considerably.  The clouds in the sky were incredibly white and puffy.   The smell of the lake one of those smells I cannot help but recognize.   The sound of the waves lapping on the shore were familiar and memory jarring.

I looked down the shore, to the left of the landing that I was on, to see a beach that I’d frequented as a teenager.  It was also one that I’d made love on in the middle of  a humid July night in 1994. My lover (now husband) and I, that night, had a great laugh at my expense (which they usually are, anyway, as my life seems to be a constant mix of laughter and emotion, but I digress.) Pleasure took over as it should when [you] are experiencing such a paramount sexual moment and then I realized there were people coming toward us.

“We’ve got people walking over here,” I blurted as I hid under the blanket.

Oddly this memory came back to me as I photographed the water just a few hundred yards from where it had taken place.  The sounds and the smells–again–had the power to catapult me back to a night that I won’t ever forget, even while in the company of my father and youngest son.


We drove into the city toward the marina.  The sunset was obscured by the huge clouds so I drove down and around for a few miles.  As we made our way over the Sky Way my father told me stories from his childhood.  Maybe it was a mix of the water, the sunset, the songs from little David, or just the need to tell?    He’d ask me, what else do you want to know?  Whatever you want to tell me, I answered.  And he’d tell me something more.

This is why I blog.   Sometimes I do it through my words.  Oftentimes I do it through my photographs.    I blog to tell my stories.  For my memories.  To not forget.


*Bulaffo:  This is the way David says “Buffalo”.  The whole ride from GA to NY he would say, “I go to Bulaffo and Baba give me da **bagoon!”

**bagoon: This is the way David says “balloon”, which he is totally obsessed with.  I am pretty convinced that his infatuation with receiving an orange balloon, on the way up here, is the reason we had such a stress free trek.  He’d get all fidgety and I’d start talking about the various colors and shapes of ones that he’s seen and remembered. Thank you bagoons.  I love you.

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