A blog of letters from an older father to his young son... Meant for an audience of one- shared with you.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
meeting april
I thought my time had passed. That kids were not going to be in my future - that being a dad was something in theory, but would never happen.
Then I met April.
I can't describe the events so clearly, because they are things felt, and not best told.
I knew who April was, I had talked to her on twitter. She seemed like a nice young lady, who had a complicated life, and someone who was interesting. Never knew what she looked like, didn't know anything about her personal life. But we talked a few times on twitter- and it was easy to talk with her. I guessed at the details of what was going on in her life- but didn't pry.
I was invited by some mutual friends to Tampa for a dinner. The days before I was in Alaska at some meetings, and it seemed like a long way to fly -- all the way to Florida - for a dinner- but I didn't really have anything better to do that weekend so I thought "why not." In the great Alaska tradition I decided to bring my hosts some Alaska food-- and I had promised them seafood-- so it was seafood I brought-- salmon and halibut. The salmon was caught in Anchorage at Ship Creek- caught it, fillet it- and brought it to a place for packing- which they agreed to do if I would buy some of their fish- so I bought some halibut. Caught that day, packed, and that night took the red eye from Anchorage to Tampa.
The hostess of the dinner was going to meet me at the airport, but when I arrived there was a message on my phone-- instead, April was going to meet me. I smiled-- it would be nice to meet this young lady in person.
She was late - called an apologized - and that was fine. She arrived-- helped me with the luggage, gave me a hug then we got in the car.
She took off her sunglasses and looked at me in the eye. I don't know what happened at that moment- because I rarely look people in the eye. But I did her. For several seconds the world stood still - there was no car, no Tampa, no me, no her-- just us. It was two souls talking to each other through eyes. She sat up straighter, her voice went a bit deeper- and we both knew that there was something between us that meant our lives would never be the same
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment