One Sunday *EDITED

One Sunday
 
The best things always happen on Sunday. “… sorry I’m late but I’m afraid I’m lost. Did you say take a right or go straight at the courthouse?” I was lost. I was supposed to meet her at the recreational park, one I had been to before but I couldn’t remember exactly how to get there. “Where are you now,” she asked, “I’ll be there in a minute.” True to her word in just a couple of minutes she drove into the parking lot and stopped beside me. We made small talk for a few minutes and then I followed her to the park, the entrance to which I had driven right past as I came into town.
 
It was nice park with tennis courts, ball fields, picnic pavilions and walking paths for people of all ages to enjoy. There were children’s swing sets and monkey bars and I believe even a merry go round. We started walking across the parking lot with no actually destination I mind. Once again the talk was small as we ambled around, each taking sideways glances at each other. Eventually we came upon a building that had a small side lawn with a two person wooden swing hanging from upright poles set back into one corner near a fence. “How about if we sat down in the swing and talked.” She asked. “Sure.” I said as we turned across the sidewalk up into the grass. I wonder if she knew at this point how fond I was of wooden swings. She had at this point been exposed to my diary although I’m not sure exactly what she had read at the time.
 
Today was the first time I had ever met her in person. We had exchanged emails and notes on a dating website for several weeks and there had been a few phone calls. The meeting today was a ‘just to meet you’ occasion with no plans other than to say hello. We had talked about sharing a cup of coffee since we are both coffee lovers but unfortunately there was no coffee available in the park. We sat in the swing and talked for quite a while. We talked about our individual pasts, or present situations and our separate future hopes and dreams. At one point she excused her self and as she walked away I hoped she wasn’t going to jump in her car and drive away. As luck would have it she returned in just a few minutes with a bag in hand and took her place beside me in the swing again. She opened up the bag and produced two Styrofoam bottles of coffee. I had never seen such these in person but I have seen them on television. They were self warming cups. You uncover an area on the bottom of the container and press in on it to mix two chemicals together that cause the cup to heat up on its own. She had made a special trip to get these so we could share our first cup of coffee on our first meeting.  We sat and drank the coffee, continuing to talk about things both great and small I imagine. I have to admit that I’m not exactly sure what was said. I only know that as we talked it quickly became evident that today’s meeting was no mistake.
 
One thing I do remember was a short conversation about ‘code words’ and phone calls in case she needed a quick getaway. She had been cautions, I liked that. No one knew where I was, I guess maybe that wasn’t such a good idea; after all, she could have been a serial killer or something. I have to admit though, I haven’t heard about very many 5’3” women serial killers with smiles that could brighten the dullest of days. She does have a way about her though. Her voice is as soft as one can imagine an angel’s wings as being, at least that is the way I hear it. He rwords, while not necessarily deliberately chosen are the sort that could explain away the cruelest pain and deepest hurt a child (or man with a broken heart) could ever experience. Her eyes sparkled and glittered with happiness. Even when she spoke of hurtful past experiences the tenderness and understanding deep in them was clearly evident and begged attention from me. I couldn’t resist. Unfortunately the light faded and the afternoon came to a close.
 
However, I suggested we do something that we hadn’t planned on doing. Fortunately she agreed. We left the park and made our way to a local restaurant. We shared our first meal together as we sat and talked again for what seemed like forever, but not long enough.  Towards the end of our meal I asked the question, I don’t really remember how it was asked or answered exactly but I do remember that I was assured that if/when our schedules would allow a second date would/could happen. Later in the parking lot we hugged goodbye and drove off in separate directions.
 
This afternoon I was read somewhere that one of the curious things folks do when they are looking for an unfamiliar street or something as they drive is to turn the radio down. I most always have music playing as I drive. This time though, I didn’t.  My ride home was a quiet, reflective one. I remember thinking that this Sunday afternoon was one that I knew I would never forget. I should have written this then because so many of the details escape me now. Not on my ride home though. I went over each and every moment I could remember. Bits and pieces of our conversations synchronized with expressions on our faces ran through my mind constantly. I distinctly felt a certain satisfaction that has eluded me for sometime being present with me on my drive home. A certain peacefulness that I have recently wished for but just didn’t get, tugged at my sleeve jumped on to my shoulder and pushed away burdens that had weighted me down for so long. I didn’t wonder ‘if’. I amazed at ‘why’?
 
Since that Sunday….
Things have gotten progressively better in my life.

*NOTE: After looking back over my diary it seems the entries about swings were post hacker days. Maybe she just read my mind? I’ll have to find that poem and re-post it.

NOTE: @k Denotes that the poetry/prose is a "Country Loner" original.