This is the Patio
No bigger than two cars parked side by side, the patio is a forever
friend giving insight to the lives of those that dwell near this perfect blend what
life was, is, and someday might be again.
This is where family and friends gather…
Where steaks, burgers, chicken, and
even vegetables have been grilled to perfection before being placed lovingly on
the stove top in the kitchen so that family and friends can fill their plates
Where dinner guests sit in the hopes
of enjoying their meal before being carted off by the oversized mosquitos that
seem to take over summertime in South Arkansas
Where a boiling pot of crawfish
draws back those that have moved away even if they can only spend a few short hours reliving days gone by
Where, much too late and far too many
glasses in, the “neighborhood moms” attempted to learn the “Cha Cha Slide” only
to discover that they could not contain their laughter long enough to follow
the directions being shouted at them through the speakers
Where the warmth of a blazing fire
in the fire pit warms the toes (and hearts) of all who gather round on cold
nights
This is the place of childhood memories…
Where we Simpson Kids-Renee,
Alicia, and Lewis- played tag, hosted birthday parties, and watched Dad get the
boat ready so we could all “roll on the river” each Sunday afternoon
Where mom and dad sat watching
while we learned to pump our legs so we could swing all by ourselves and then
leap out into the air before crashing into the grass and pretending you didn’t
scrape your knee when you hit the ground
Where Mathew and I got married
because we were six, and that’s what six-year-olds are supposed to do
Where at the tender age of five,
Alicia and James announced that they were moving far, far away…all the way to
Shreveport, and we could only visit them on Sunday
Where Lewis dressed up Pongo before
enrolling him in the town’s annual Fabulous Fourth Pet Show
Where Mom stood to tell us to get
out of the Marlow’s pool and come home for lunch
Where we laughed while watching
Peter, the largest white rabbit anyone had ever seen, chase Charlie, because he
didn’t know that a rabbit was supposed to be scared of a dog
Where coloring books became
waterlogged and crayons melted after being abandoned on hot, summer days
Where the grown-ups sat in the
evenings to solve all of the world’s problems while the kids played on the
swing set or in the sand box
Where neighbors became friends…and
friends became family.
This is Daddy’s spot…
Where he sits each morning to drink
coffee, say his morning prayers, and watch the sky fill with the day’s light
Where he waits for nightfall while
sipping scotch and water at the end of a hard day
Where he has become obsessed with
his iPod because it has the ability to play all of his favorite songs just by
applying a little bit of pressure to the dial
Where he watches the birds swoop in
and around the bird feeders he has filled to the brim.
Where he curses the squirrels for
eating the birdseed…Don’t they know that “birdtheed is for the birds”?!?!
This is mom’s retreat…
Where her baskets of hanging plants
float under the eaves of the house while the vines stretch over the edges of
the pots trying desperately to reach the slab and sprawl on the concrete
Where pots and containers of every
shape and size house buds and blossoms carefully tended and watered each day
Where Good Housekeeping and Redbook
are often devoured in single sittings
Where, after a night of giggles and
smiles shared between life-long friends, Rum Runner became the new favorite
Where she nurtures tiny seeds and
plants with the grand-girls in hopes that their little green thumbs will
develop in ways that her own daughters’ green thumbs never did
This is a place that changes…
Where the old white bell now lives
because no one could bear to leave it out in the country after Mama Mt. Holly was
gone
Where the radio with its crooked
antennae has been replaced with a new Bose system complete with tiny remote so
you don’t have to leave the comfort of your chair to adjust the volume
Where pink bicycles and tricycles
and scooters live because the grand-girls have so many riding options that they
need a garage of their very own
Where extra bag chairs and folding
chairs and benches and stools lie in wait because you never know who might stop
by and how many people they might bring with them
Where Alicia now watches her own daughters
jump on the trampoline or pump their legs so hard that the swings seem ready to
take flight
Where Lewis and his buddies tell
stories and drink too much beer while he is home on leave, but life is short,
and no one seems to mind
Where I sit with Mom and Dad to
talk about hopes, dreams, work, school, new cars, when I might be ready to
purchase my own home, and all sorts of other grown-up things
This is a place that stays the same…
Where a
forgotten softball rests at the edge of the flowerbed
Where, just behind the bird bath, a
red Matchbox truck sits abandoned and alone after the cousins left on Sunday
afternoon
Where, although he is no longer
bright red and yellow, the Fisher-Price Coupe peeks out from behind the tree pleading,
“Please, come play with me.”
Where shoes are deposited after
making a mad dash through Simpson’s Swamp…a souvenir left over from the last
hard rain
Where garden gloves for the tall
and the small await their chance to once again plunge into an oversized bag of
potting soil
Where the electric lines supplying
power to the house sag a little too much for everyone’s comfort
Where a
bottle of bubbles supplies endless hours of fun and laughter
Where
fireflies decorate the summer evening sky
This is the patio.
No bigger than two cars parked side by side, the patio is a
forever friend giving insight to the lives of those that dwell near this
perfect blend what life was, is, and forever will be.
This is home.
this made me cry, I should like to be invited to this magical patio one day
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