orange blossoms

when my son was visiting his friend in France, he sent a picture he had shot there. A woman was sitting on one end of a park bench, looking up at a very blue sky with wisps of white clouds floating around. There was another woman on the bench, but she was lying and her head was resting on the sitting woman’s lap. They were mother and a daughter enjoying the great outdoors in French countryside. A ninety something years old mother, resting in her sixty seven years old daughter’s lap. He had captioned the photograph:


Today, we all went to Turkey Lake Park to have a day out. It was a pleasantly warm day after a very long spell of very wet and cold week. I wanted to go somewhere near the sea. It has been almost a year now that we went fishing or just to look at the big waves and the surf. But my older son said that this being the Bikers Week plus Spring Break, Daytona Beach, New Smyrna Beach and Cocoa Beach were not the places for family oriented outings. So we went to Turkey Lake State Park. The Sun was out and in this bright haze, spun cotton like white clouds were skimming the edges of a blue sky.

Both my sons, my daughter in law and my granddaughters and of course my husband – love of my life – and myself were all there at one time and at one place which does not happen everyday.

After lunch they took the girls to the kiddy park. By this time the sun was getting hot and it was making the slides too hot for a little girl to enjoy the simple fun of a fast slide. She burnt her buns. When they came back her rosy cheeks were red and there were tears shining behind those beautiful black eyes. When she saw me, she ran and landed in my arms. What is wrong bibi? I asked. I went on the slide Daadi and it was hot. I got burnt. It was endearingly funny the way she said but how could I laugh at this tragedy? Not only was she deprived of sliding through tunnels, she burnt her cute little buns too. Soon she was comforted and pushing the slide shock back, she was her sunny self again.

I had brought my knitting bag, a book I was reading and my note book – my standard paraphernalia that goes with me wherever I go. I didn’t knit nor did I open the book. There was no time or need for that. The sky was blue and the sun was heady. It was the first Saturday of March and the air was fragrant with the smell of orange blossoms. I was savoring the precious moments. Once the children grow up and go their ways, empty nest syndrome sets in. I thank my stars that now our family has extended and there is not a dull moment in our lives.

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