A Stroll in the Park - If the Trees Could Talk
Today my partner, Phil and I, took a stroll in the park in the early evening. We have been in this park countless of times. If the trees could talk they would tell of two playmates who truly enjoy being together, because there are no expectations or demands that either one of us be anything but who we are. There isn't criticism or game playing that inhibits either one of us. They would speak of the laughter, the chats that inspired mental and spiritual shifts when understanding was reached; they would speak of some eye rolling when either one of us would get impatient; they would speak of tears when the sudden death of a young one touched my family, and how he held me and simply let me cry on his shoulder like a 5 year old. The last time I cried this hard was exactly when I was 5, and did not see my devoted Mother for a while due to difficult circumstances in life.
The park compared to several parks I have been in the country, especially Central Park in New York, which was my lunchtime hangout, is small, simple, but its a place where we both have created a history and a bond, and for this I am grateful. As we strolled hand in hand in silence, with a drizzle gently touching us, and tall trees in various shades of green embellishing the space of the park, while the river gently made splashing sounds, I suddenly felt my heart open and a tear roll down on the side of my face. I felt a deep communion with the sacredness of love and life, and was so moved, that I had to catch my breath.
The most beautiful experiences in my life are not ones where I have obtained material goods, achieved a promotion or dressed to the nines to attend fancy company parties, but the quiet ones by the fireplace, watching TV while munching popcorn, and taking our strolls in nature. When kindred souls be it lovers, family or friends can sit down and enjoy each other's company and accept the fullness of the moment, life becomes rich.
When I look back at my life, my heart remembers moments with my late elderly Mother, who would take a cab and stay in my place, and I would cook her favorite dish and chat into the late evening like two teenagers: and of my late nephew's 9 year old eyes sparkling with anticipation when I would pick him up to go hang out in the city. He knew we would have a good time together.
If the trees could talk, it would speak of love, of tears, of life's peaks and valleys, and how the simple pleasures in life stand out for me, and of my grateful heart.
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