Saving Daylight

I did something today that I've always wanted to do.  I took a deliberate midday walk in the middle of my workday.  I should add that it was outside, which is what elevated it to the "never before" novelty.  I often take midday walks out of necessity but they're typically to the copy room or more urgently, the restroom.       It's the first  official  week back for teachers and today's meeting was divided up to include a lunch break so I seized the moment.  It was beautiful out, I've been feeling lethargic without my sprints up and down hallways, and I was feeling rebellious against the arbitrary lunch time suggested in the day's schedule.   But there was more.  We live on a street right across from a high school.  We can literally see and hear all things 'Friday Night Lights', 5Ks, parades, and general adolescence buzz.  Since schools shut down in March, things have obviously been...quiet.  But today, just ...

 Listening to "This Year's Love" by David Gray on repeat.  Today, or specifically tonight, brings 19 years since my Dad passed away in a tired, gray nursing home just off Franklin Road in Roanoke.  He politely waited for me to leave the room after my being there all day and into the late evening.  He passed while I was driving home, listening to this song on repeat in my car.  It was 2001 and Gray's "White Ladder" album was popular - great driving music for my trips up and down I-81 for visits before things got more serious and I parked it at Mom's for that final month.  I don't actually know with certainty that he passed while I was driving home.  Phyllis from the nurses' station called around 10:15, as I was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, having eaten no real dinner yet, and asked to speak to my mom.  My mom, technically the point of contact even though they were divorced, was showering.  Phyllis tried to put off the inevitable ...