Walking home from school together with her, he runs off to the side of a house and tears a yellow rose from the bushes and runs back to her, placing it in her hair.
Two children playing outside in a wooden cottage just about their size. With real wood shutters, door with lock, kitchen set in corner and a small patio. The little boy playing house with the little girl. He pretends to go to work outside the house making bricks and building walls, gathering pecans and grapes and climbing trees. She works with him plays in the mud making mud pies and throwing mud in his face. He gets upset and hides, she goes to look for him and when she finds him they scuffle and then end up playing a game of tag. Running through the yard around trees and around bushes. He falls and scrapes his knee she goes over to him and helps him clean his scrape and they sit together looking tenderly into each others eyes.
Their parents call them inside its time to go they hug and say goodbye. They will see each other again but neither of them know when.
The mornings are hard, waking suddenly from an alarm that shakes him awake. Hitting snooze at least 3 times before he finally pulls the covers from his body and gets dressed and ready. He places his hand on hers and kisses her forehead gently as he leaves the bedroom. Getting coffee, getting the car keys putting on the winter garb and rushing out the door to a iced over windshield and cold car interior. He starts the car, turns the heater on full blast as he scrapes the windshield of all the ice that has accrued. Sitting alone silent in the early morning hours he waits for the car to warm so he can speed of to work. Getting to work he settles into his cubicle and starts his work day.
Getting up she is playing house, get some water, clean the kitchen, cook some food. Organize the shelves, dusting, make the beds, make sure the children are off to school on time. She sips a cup of coffee and sits to the computer and checks her email. We used to play house when we were younger and now its real and we don't act any different.
We both go off and do our own things. During these times of separation they sing to themselves the beautiful words of a poet, "How soon will I be seeing you? How soon? I wish I really knew. When will I be hearing words I want to hear? Pretty little love words whispered in my ear.....". When we are together we play and chase each other, sometimes hurting the others feelings and other times just hurting. Taking turns taking care of each other. Smiling and crying with each other as days and events pass. Still the same children having to face the pains of the world. Standing together hand in hand as the world crumbles around them, skies burning, wars igniting all around them, disease and fear spreading internationally. Having only each other to lean on, they look out into the face of darkness and go calmly into the night. After all there is no fear in children playing.
They take time to remember who they are and why they play and that you are never too old to play. Every once in a while they will catch a glimpse of that past, that child, that spirit, that soul they still recognize from their childhood. They sit and stare deeply into each others eyes. They could easily forget what really matters being away from each other for too long. These times when they sit in thunderous silence and the the background seems to fade to black, hand in hand sitting near each other. Just being.
Sometimes when he is coming home from work during the warm days of spring and summer, he drives around searching for homes with rose bushes, he finds an empty yard with a rose bush by the door. Parks the car leaves the ignition running and takes his house keys and cuts a rose from the bush, running back to the car and driving home quickly. Walking in the door he sneaks up behind her and puts a yellow rose in her hair.