A cream soda

I grew up drinking cream sodas.  Daddy would bring them home in their little boxes lined up brown & hard to open.  He’d pull one out of the box & gingerly open one for me pouring me half & waiting.  I loved cream sodas.  I loved the way they were clear like my fathers beer he’d drink happily before he stopped drinking.  Something about beer made him happy so naturally everything that color would, right?  I loved the fizz on top & the sound of the ice on the thick frosty mugs daddy poured it in right from the freezer.  Something about cream soda screams childhood.  And I haven’t had one in years.  So when my mother brought over a bottle of cream soda a few weeks ago and set it on the shelf next to hers I knew it had my name on it   I was elated.  I mentioned how long it had been since I had even seen a bottle of that stuff.  Mom drank hers during the course of the day but I saved mine.   I wanted to enjoy it.  Sit down & relax and really taste it.  So I waited.  And it sat.  Every time I opened the fridge I saw it there waiting for me.  A little piece of yesterday on my shelf waiting for me to open it like an old photo album and sit down for a while to remember myself.  time never did stand still long enough to sit down.  And it sat patiently waiting.

One day my mom came to spend the day & help as she does & upon exiting she opened up the fridge to grab the cream soda she had been watching.  I’m sure she thought to herself that I didn’t want the cream soda & that is why it was left in there untouched.  Maybe she thought I didn’t like cream soda at all.  Little did she know that I looked forward to it each day and decided each day I would have it the next so I could continue to look forward to it again.  As she picked it up & walked out the door with it a piece of me went with her.  It wasn’t the cream soda.  It was a cream soda my mother gave to me.  Like when I was a kid.  Like when that’s all it took to make me happy.  And for some reason I looked forward to THAT cream soda just like I did simply as a child.  I looked forward to that happy. But I waited too long.  I didn’t sit down.  I didn’t drink when I was thirsty.   I hung my pretty dress in the closet for too long waiting for that perfect occasion to wear it until the moths found it and somebody else decided to wear it.  Don’t sit on the shelf.  Rest a bit.  Sit down.   don’t leave the dress in the closet to fall together like the days of childhood.  Wear it.  And if you’re thirsty…..