Friday, August 6, 2010
Breathe -----Flash Fiction
Breathe. That was the first word James ever said to me. Just like that. Nothing else. Then he was just a solid wall of comfort sitting beside me while I sobbed.
That was James in a nutshell, loving, giving, open hearted. One day that heart simply stopped. Mid stride on the golf course. He fell hard enough to make a dent in the wet turf.
I buried his ashes in the park near the creek. Just lifted some velvety moss and watered him in.
There's no marker, it's technically an illegal grave. I didn't ask permission.
He walked that path almost every day for forty years, letting it feed his soul. I can't imagine anyone begrudging him lying underneath it now and returning the favor.
The dent where he fell eventually filled itself in. Time marching on.
Time marches to a different drummer for me.