It has happened every year since he’s been gone. I am drawn to the edge of the Potomac River to watch the water, feel the chill of the breeze on my face and the best part of all, I go there and think back to better times and think forward to what might be with no one around. It’s really empty at my spot near the C & O Canal. This year somebody had built a fire ring and left behind big tree chunks that clearly were used to sit around the fire.
I rolled one of those make-shift chairs to the waters’ edge and had a front row seat as the mighty Potomac rolled by at high tide. The river was raging yesterday. She was a bright, shiny silver color, reflecting what little light the sky would share. It was kind of an eerie scene. The bare tree branches stretched out like flailing arms hoping to catch a lonely bird, looking to take a rest before fighting more of the winds aloft.
I guess it’s silly to expect my questions to be heard by the one who can no longer give me the advice I seek, but at least it allows the questions to be asked. The memories that come back in waves, while I sit there and remember also provide a salve that comes with a peaceful embrace from the swirling air around me.
A few minutes at the waters’ edge, on day one of the new year. Questions and answers and thoughts.