2:25 p.m.
Five minutes waiting, scanning the parking lot. A 28 year old woman emerges from the hotel, walking across the cross walk. Stops, looks back and up to the 8th floor. She waves. Smiles. I wave back. I press my black cardigan to the window to show my spot. Thumbs up. She sees me and walks into the garage.
*The bride and her groom, turning back to wave before getting in the limo, heading for their new life.
A 20 year old, beloved BMW, now residing in D.C., leaves the garage, headed for the toll booth. The chipped, teal paint is camouflaged by distance and a former owner's loving vision. The shadow of the garage cannot hide her peek under the visor and her quick waves up to me.
*The college coed, walking just to airport security, turning to look back and wave, before heading to Italy in June.
She pays for parking and drives into the bright sun flooding the front seat.
*Red, silk chiffon. Black and white tux. Waving as the car backs out of the driveway heading to the prom. Four years later unsuspecting husband and wife.
She stops at a T in the road. No traffic. Just underneath my window. We exchange several big waves.
*3 years old preschool. Walking down the stairs together. Who's my favorite girl? ME. Me? NOT YOU! ME! She lets go of my hand and heads into her classroom.
Another few waves. I press my palm to the window. She smiles and turns right and away, up the street. 2 hearts. 2 hands.
The yellow leaves of 37 trees cannot compare to her shining spirit, her golden hair.
I go to grab my journal and the peppermint Chapstick falls to the floor. I've been looking for it the entire trip. I got it on my last minute pre-trip run to Walgreens. I thought I lost it on the plane when I rolled up my jacket for a pillow.
Letting go is never easy.
Randomonium Post #100
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