Distant Passing Stage

There’s a patch of perfectly trimmed green lawn wedged between two garages in my neighborhood. A stone memorial bench sits in a shady corner of the small space, and well-tended flowers pop with color against the neutral backdrop of the adjacent buildings. A low chain gate discourages dogs and passerby from entering, and up until a few days ago, I had never seen anyone there. On my Sunday afternoon run, a tanned woman in her mid-40s was out watering the landscape. She smiled at me as I ran by, and as the sun sank in the sky, a mixture of bittersweet emotion crossed her face. I wonder whose memory she honors with her watering…a lost husband, father, or son? A sister, daughter, or mother?

And I’ll be back ’round again
Yes I’ll walk in time with you old friend
And we’ll find that place
That we had danced so long ago
-The Song That Jane Likes, DMB