Another Easter hat parade to endure. Scores of kids shuffling, stumbling, skipping around the cement yard. Rolls of cardboard on their heads. Baskets and masks stickered and coloured and 2-dollar-shop-Easterfied.
Parents and carers lining the space. Some seated and others standing in the sun.
Me on the side. Feeling the heat and wishing I’d brought my sunglasses. Actually where are they anyway? It’s seriously bright. Gloriously, painfully so.
Watching these dear little faces parading before us. Loved ones beaming at them. Waving. Calling out. A photo. A grin.
This great swathe of love. A rollingness…a swell. My stomach rises as the children near and falls as they leave and here they are again. Two laps. Too much.
And here comes my son. Here he comes shy behind his egg mask. I can hardly bear to look at him. But look at him. See the curve of his neck. His lanky golden legs. His hands in pockets. His funny little shuffling walk. Perfection. What a goddamn honour living near you.
I step away to catch my breath and stem my tears.
All those shining faces…all that clumsy love. Around it goes…