One Day

Back when we knew where we were going but did not know how to get there… Back when love was on the tip of our tongues, unknown to the ears and the driver of every action… Back when our worries were not enough time, yet too long to wait...

Your mum’s hair was short; she was growing it long because that how I liked it. And we decided to take a drive to a suburb we’d never been to before. So we parked the car and went for a walk. I’d learnt to always hold her hand, or at least hold her in some way, she likes that.

Anyway, the streets were lined with deep cobblestone driveways flanked by gates and the houses were more than adequate if we could see them from the road. There was a little park with a swing set and a playground, your mum led me down the path and onto the other side. The street was still quiet, with more trees but less iron gates. Up a hill a bit, we gained a glimpse of a corner of a backyard. A blue and white striped hammock tied between two leafy trees. The slanted roof of the house with a skylight and beneath it, a window seat. We stood, looked long enough at this picture of tranquility, until the ranch slider opened and a woman walked out and set up an easel under the tree.

“One day.” Your mum said, mostly to herself but loud enough for me to hear. My only response was so squeeze her hand, so I did not lose her.

Ten years later, we are far far away from the place we went to as teenagers. The closest house that resembles anything we saw that time was in the next city. But she loves it here, she loves having her family secure and comfortable. She loves opening her home to people as they come to our house to eat and sing and read together. I did not disappoint her or ignore her dreams. I do sometimes wish we had grass just as green as what we saw instead of a concrete wall behind our house. But your mum says she’s content. Content with who she’s with.

Inspired by true events