Friday, September 17, 2010
"She's too little!" Mama protested.
Dad shook his head and smiled. He threw me up in the air and I remember landing miraculously on his broad, tanned shoulders. He was a magic man.
Mama was very far away, down the sandy end of the beach. We were all alone except for the rocks and the barnacles and the endless tide pools.
"You go first, make sure you feel the rocks with your feet," he said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Your feet know what to do if you listen. Place them carefully. If it's smooth or slippery, place them on another rock. "
We walked the length of the pier in silence. I didn't stumble once. I concentrated on where I put each, small, bare foot.
I think he said "Good job..." or at least I'd like to remember it that way. We were standing in the middle of the ocean with the tide closing in behind us. "Better head back..." he said.
And I wanted to say No... please. Let's stay here you and I where the ocean meets the sky. I'd rather be swallowed up with you than let you slip away from me.
How I loved my father.