You’re Swimming Streamline
The guests are gone, the washing begun.
A wind arrived and blew slashing rain down the streets. The palms shook their heads like Peanuts characters dancing to Linus’s piano. Then the storm, too, passed. Water filled the potholes; for the sake of your suspension, beware the unseen.
I, who made no food for Thanksgiving, baked cookies and candy for church tomorrow. Out of step with the crowd, as usual. My poor post-broken arm is straightening, thanks to a swimming drill called streamline. You lay one palm on top of your other hand, forming a vee with your arms. Tuck your head. Hold your breath. Kick. You’re swimming streamline, moving efficiently through the water.
For the guests, I polished silver compotes and vases I inherited from women I love. For myself, I polished the egg-darkened fork tines (whoever even says tines?). We have fat green grapes left over from our appetizer collage, and satsumas from our very own trees. We will eat them one by one.
I’m so grateful I don’t have to play football.
I hope you had time this week where you sat and enjoyed the life of those you love. Smiled at their eccentricities. Laughed at their jokes. Enjoyed their talents. Admired their graciousness. Loved them.
Hold those moments in your fist and, when you feel lonely, slowly spread your fingers, releasing their power again. Then you’ll be swimming streamline, moving smoothly through life.