Double Rainbow-Double Memories

I near the stony beach on Lake Huron, filled with dormant, Canada geese. 

They stand up, walk slowly first and show their early morning-laziness.

When my feet hit the rocks off the grass

They begin to run to the edge and fly across the water, rippled with small waves.

They’re like a bunch of crotchety old ladies and Scroogely-old men.

They bitch with honks, their comfort zone disrupted.

I slip off my sandals when my feet touch the water

throwing them far enough on the beach no groping waves can grab them and take them away.

Ouch! Sharp stones on bare feet!

My weight accommodates the torture.

Only seconds of pain though.

I dive into the cool, rippled water as pleasure surrounds my skin.

It feels like I’ve draped a silky Kimono on my body, head to toe.

Mom’s already halfway down the beach,

head down, with her white baseball cap covering her hair.

Her brilliant idea to make an early morning visit to the beach.

She searches for “Finds”.  

The picture I see of her, from my spot in the deep, rolling water,

warms my heart with love.

Her confidence, love of the water and comfort being alone with her thoughts

Seize me. I tread water in the  deep, dark, cool green-blue water

and watch her.

After my mind gets a strong memory-picture of her

I start to swim along and back-along the shore.

When my head comes up with the crawl stroke,

I see Mackinac Island appear.

It disappears when my head follows my left, extended arm.

Breast strokes allow me to easily see Mom every time my head bobs up.

Her faded blue jeans wet, halfway up her calf.

Her Nike shoes undoubtedly soaked too.

I chuckle.  I love how she’s content in this home by the shore.

Like a bluebird in the meadow, swooping in summer-satisfaction.

My side-stroke gives me full view of the horizon

no head under, no worries for a breath of air.

I see the rain-curtains falling across the Island and over Rabbit’s Back Peak.

It heads our way.

Not concerned unless I see lightening or hear thunder.

Above the small hills of St. Ignace there’s a double rainbow.

I can’t swim.  I’m mesmerized by its beauty. Its magnitude.

Again I tread water. 

Pulled out by the surge of current toward the Straits of Mackinac.

Pushed in by the ferry boats in transit to and from the Island.

Rain begins to pour from the sky.

The magical rainbow shares the rain with me. 

My face, arms, head receive a pelting like an early morning Christmas present.

My smile welcomes the water before it drips down my neck.

I chuckle about my needless worry of Mom getting drenched.

She doesn’t even go for her rain jacket.  

She’s fine.

I start up my swim, a large flock of seagulls swoop above me.

Small rays of sun shine through the thick rain clouds, 

blinding me as I come up for air.

Closed is the mystical window.

The rainbow fades, the rain stops.

Eight years since my love passed.

A summer past spent in hospitals and hospice.

No early morning swims.

No smiles.

Wherever he is I hope he has mornings like this.