Observations Along The Way

Dearest Rachel –

Depending on when I leave the house, I can (and do) run into a number of people along the way. And I have to admit, I can’t seem to prevent myself from commenting on some of the things I see. To borrow from the legendary Yogi Berra, “you can observe a lot just by watching,” but if you don’t make note of those observations. what good are they?

So, like I’d planned to in the first of my dream journals, I’m about to start a running tally of the things I see along the way.

Outside the local gym, in the alley out in back of the local strip mall, there were two women exercising on a yoga mat; well, one was on the yoga mat, the other was… I think encouraging her? In any event, I couldn’t help asking why they were working out outside rather than inside the gym. The one doing the encouraging remarked something about torturing the other, and making her sweat – I’m sure the first part was meant only in jest. I hope. In either case, I countered to them that “the world is one great big hot yoga room for you all, hmm?” They seemed to find that amusing.

There was another encounter with a woman walking a pair of big black dogs. Nothing particularly unusual about that, or even the fact that she was wearing a bright red shirt with a black letter G on it, in line with the University of Georgia logo. But again, it struck me as odd to realize that the dogs she was walking… weren’t Bulldogs. And shouldn’t they’ve been, given her (I presume) alma mater’s mascot?

I stopped at Mariano’s grocery store on the way as well, as I hadn’t had breakfast and I knew the folks had an oversupply of cream cheese that needed using up. On my way out with my bag of bagels, I saw an older woman with her daughter as she navigated her motorized scooter to the store. Right as she was halfway between the parking lot and the entrance, she suddenly stopped, and cried out, “Oh, Shannon! I forgot my mask!” Her daughter reassured her that, thankfully, it wasn’t necessary to wear it anymore, but I couldn’t keep myself from thinking that the way she drew out the “Sh…” in her daughter’s name had me thinking she was going to say something completely different.

Walking through the alfresco section of downtown, I stopped to rest by the fountain, when a pair of moms with their respective kids came by. A couple of the boys were begging their mom for pennies to throw in and make a wish. I didn’t hear the exact exchange, but she must have acquiesced as the next thing I heard was a plunk and some gibberish from one of the kids. I could not tell what he might’ve wanted, but the second kid said something to the effect of “I wish everyone would come down from heaven.”

That got my attention. I turned to them, and told him if he said what I thought he said, I’d multiply his wish for him – And I pitched a quarter in.

Look, I know you’re no more likely to come down for a quarter than for a million dollars. What’s money in heaven, anyway? But it’s still a nice wish, and if I could… well, you know.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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