With Late Summer

H, tonight you and I went for a walk.

We waited until T was asleep, and both mom and K had headed to bed.

You were already in your pajamas so you sipped on a pair of shoes and we left through the garage.

The sun was starting to set but the evening air was still warm with the feeling of late summer.

We turned right out of the driveway and then right again, heading around the block.

We talked about how crazy COVID is, the weather, how much we love going for walks, how the first week of school went, what we should do for labor day, and how much fun we had at the swimming party the day before.

Instead of finishing the block and heading home, we kept on heading west down 76th.

One house we passed had a puppy in a cage in the yard. We walked within a food of him as we passed on the sidewalk. When we stopped to way high he went nuts whining and barking.

You wanted to rescue him so bad – but I was not sure he was in need of it. He looked like he had been put in a timeout of some kind. The garage door behind him was still open and the lights were all on in the house.

You left him there begrudgingly.

Circling back at the end of the next street, we passed the house on the corner with the front gardens. I told you that walking past the house made me sad.

And then we talked about the family that lived there, a husband and wife with two or three high-school/college-age kids. We talked about how we always saw the mom out working in the garden. And then I told you about how she got sick. So many cars were at their house one day when I came home from lunch. And then we found out she had died.

I loved stealing a little one-on-one time away with you.

More walks, please?

I love you.

-Dad