Sailboats in the Park

Someday I’ll tell you about sailboats in the Park.

I’m sure you won’t believe me at first, mostly because I’m your dad and I have a tendency to take some editorial license when telling stories from the past.  But then I’ll tell you all about sailboats in the Park.  And you’ll know it’s true.

I will tell you about today, when it was just the two of us because Mommy was out of town visiting friends.  I’ll tell you about the way we spent our first man weekend together, just Dad and less-than-6-month old You.  After a fairly pedestrian start to the day, we took a walk through the Park to enjoy some of the sun’s rays before heading in for the evening.

The Park shone, in all her glory, today.  And so we took our time and explored all over, stopping occasionally to sit, to laugh, to bask in the beauty of it all.  Before long we found ourselves at the Conservatory.  The water was a tapestry of intersecting concentric waves from the dozen or so toy sailboats navigated by the young and the young at heart.

We made our way to a bench right in the middle, and I pulled you out from the stroller to sit on my lap.  As the sailboats zigged and zagged across the water, the gentle notes of an accordion player in the distance seemed to float softly above our heads.  Across the water we saw seven shades of green in the trees that line the park, each shade uniquely complementing the others.  And towering over the trees stood the balconies of the finest apartments in the city.  The large buildings soaked in the sunlight like sunbathers on the beach.  It was a few hours before dusk, and the sunbeams were brilliant, like a master’s fine painting.  Only this wasn’t art, this was real life. 

Where we sat, in the shade, there was the occasional cool breeze which was enough to warrant a coat for you but felt just right for me.  Maybe it was this breeze which made you snuggle a little closer than usual.  Whatever it was, I wished I could bottle it up and save it forever.  You were remarkably calm in my arms, and I held you close.  It was a perfect sliver of heaven on earth, the two of us silently taking in the scene with the freedom of having no where else to go, and no where else we’d choose to be. 

What’s better, the moment lasted much longer than a moment.  In fact, we were there for close to half an hour.  It was long enough for me to dream of more days yet to come.  I thought about your 1^st day of school and how someday I’ll teach you how to drive.  I thought about your graduation day and the young lady who someday will be your wife. 

And I thought of one final day, many years from now, when our roles will be reversed.  In that day, you’ll be the one taking care of me.  And as you take my hand in yours, you’ll whisper softly, “If you remember, Dad, can you tell me about sailboats in the Park.”

Why of course, son, of course.  I’ll never forget sailboats in the Park.