Radio Flyer

I had to trim the hedges yesterday, which is a job I hate because I end up getting little slivers - even when I’m wearing my PPE.

I also needed something to haul away the debris.

I spotted the kid’s wagon.

It’s been in the garage since the summer of 1998.

I know that for a fact because I dumped the wagon and I saw the inscription.

“To Jake…Happy First Birthday!

We love you…Grandma and Grandpa Fazzolari”

It was Dad’s handwriting.

Dad had perfect handwriting.

My heart did a little jump, and then it ached.

It looked as though he scrawled the inscription yesterday and not 28 years ago.

I thought back to those birthday parties when the boys were young.

The boys birthdays are within a month of each other so we’d have one party and serve 3 birthday cakes.

Those were events and our parents spoiled their grandchildren. 

We got a lot of use from that wagon. Kathy would put the boys in it and take them around the neighborhood.

Where did that time go?

One moment they’re celebrating their first birthday, and the next they’re setting up their marriage.

Of course, I hope to hand off the wagon someday…

…another little inscription right next to the one my Dad proudly wrote.

And twenty-eight years from now, perhaps Jake will see it.

And remember that life certainly had perfect moments.