Saturday, May 16, 2009

The Celebrant

There I am thirty years ago.

Just look at me – the comfortable celebrant surrounded by the uplifting hands of the faithful. All are enveloped by the warmth that only a faux-wood paneled basement in Long Island can provide. And all the while, the Zenith black-n-white bears witness in the background. Shouldn’t all days be like this one?

Last weekend we had a birthday party for my daughter at our house and it made me recall this sixth birthday of mine wherein my parents hosted a similar event for me. I recall this day quite vividly and it is one of my happiest recollections of childhood. All my friends were there. My dad supervised a goofy Nerf basketball competition. By late afternoon, all the kids were picked up by their parents. I bid them all goodbye as I stood in my driveway. It was November and that certain slanted afternoon sunlight, uninhibited due to the South Shore's lack of topography, seemed to beckon me. The winter was coming for me and all I loved, but just not quite yet.

That night our family went to dinner at the Ground Round. All days should be just so.

1 comment:

  1. The celebrant was the nicest little kid on the block. And apparently his older brother and John McDonald had nothing better to do but to look on and comment. I think I just envied the native feathers.

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