Skating on Page Park Pond
by Christine Adams Beckett
We are shuffling together
Across a hospital corridor,
Your aged body weak with malady,
Mine assuming a new role:
That of doting child.
One arm around your waist,
A hand under your twitching arm
We maneuver a wheeled walker
And trailing oxygen tube with
Slow and deliberate mobility.
Your skin still emits warmth
Regardless of all that has
Atrophied underneath.
You held me this way once,
Thirty-five years ago, as we
Glided across ice,
Blades on our feet,
My ankles buckling from taxing
Rarely-used, unnamed muscles.
Embarrassed over my lack
Of skill, trumped by my
Pride in yours, I savored the
Attention, paid with parity
For each acre of your
Complicated life.
Our piece-meal skating costumes
Blue-collared sheaths, were
More like crimson cloaks
And cadet grey capes in
The vapors of our exhaled
Breath, staccato waves of
Effort and laughter.
Currier and Ives printed
The same over your utilitarian,
Cotton, hospital-issued gown,
Shrouding sorrow, grief, and
Illuminating an evanescent
Physical warmth of our
Eternal familial connection.
Pride. Tears. I am amazed by you, and so proud of you.
So beautiful, Chris – very moving.
Beautiful, may happy memories of your father bring you peace.
Really beautiful memory……that will live forever. Thoughts are with you.
Absolutely beautiful…what a gift
Could not have been more perfectly and beautifully written. A golden memory forever marked down. So sorry for your loss.
Chris, I just read this. You made me think of my father, the wonderful memories I have of him, and how much I still miss him even though it’s been 40 years.
So gifted!
I was just reminiscing about my own memories of skating on Page Park Pond, and found this. It’s beautiful. Hold those memories dear.