The day was unusually dry. My little spot on the earth had been pardoned from rain, and yet my cheeks were wet. I wept in sorrow for a past that wasn’t to be.
The sun held the warmth of the southern days from your youth. Golden rays enveloped my arms, like an invitation to turn back time. Winter’s last sprinkling of snow began to melt away, exposing the familiar mossy backdrop of the Pacific Northwest, but in my eyes, I saw southern live oaks adorned with Spanish moss.
My jeans and tee transformed into a long flowing gown and my trail runners became heels. I looked ahead, and there you stood in a suit and tie with trendy teenage hair. Beneath golden rays and mossy tree limbs, we danced the day away. Tears continued to fall from my eyes. In your arms, I wept in joy for our future.