i had such a lovely time having my papa here with us. he flew up to spend a few days with me and francis while chris is away, and i swear he brought the sunshine with him.
we mostly just walked everywhere and ordered in and lived slowly. it was the gift of long showers. an extra set of hands. walks for burgers and coffee and doughnuts and smoothies. conversations that stretched until midnight about all those things that fathers and daughters talk about, but can't necessarily say over the phone. mornings humming with french press and van morrison. really robust laughter. time carved each day for me to take care of me. errands around the neighborhood. repairs around the apartment. thrill for a beach trip in july. a sunny afternoon under the cherry blossoms that ended with tacos and mexican coke. a baby boy entirely smitten with his grandfather.
it felt so special, so sacred, so utterly the sort of weekend i pray i am having with francis in thirty years' time. i wonder where he will live then, if he'll be in love. i wonder what we'll talk about, as mother and son. i wonder if he'll know i wished for such a weekend because my papa gave the same to me.
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