It is inescapable… my fleeting moments of Grief. That although everything is fine… and this is one of the best concert/media events I have been at, that I will still think, “Ethan should be here.” That on a glorious warm Spring morning I should walk the dog and think that Ethan should be coming back from graduation… that he and I should do one last road trip…
I don’t drink at all… but the concert was amazing. Color. Sound. Emotion. It hit all the right notes. And then there was the three hours of sleep. So I’m a bit slow and groggy.
Somehow I injured my left knee last week sometime… and it hurts just enough to annoy me… And I walk past the water still left in the lake… green shoots of new growth coming through the mud, and ducks… and I talk to my neighbor for a bit. The sky is amazingly blue and the air is clean and cool. We round a corner and head downhill… and I pull the dog away from a dead mole at the edge of an empty lot. Later, by the ballfield we pass a large colorful bird, laying in the street, dying. Blue doesn’t notice… and I contemplate what to do.
A neighbors dog barks, and Blue, she straightens up and struts like a proud husky.
As the song goes… a Beautiful Day.