21 August 2012
The snow that day was falling so softly. It drifted down slowly in big wet clumps. I remember laughing at how it was building up into little mounds on top of Mayzie's new red hat. I can see her now, giggling wildly trying to catch snow flakes in her mouth.
The day we met is etched into my memory. our yearly family vacation turned into something magical. she rescued me from my summer haze of boredom, and became my dearest friend.
My sweet, dear Mayzie, a force of reckless abandon and high octane energy, dancing through life with animal magnetism. Like Gene Kelly flying on feet or Louie Armstrong ripping on brass. She attacked the ice that day like she attacked life. Her energy was boundless, uncorked and bubbling over. Her swiftly spinning pirouettes making crazy tracks in the snow. We shared the best slice of life that day. Timeless joy, the kind that lives in the heart and mind. The kind that stays even after the old dottering mind forgets what it had for breakfast. These are the things I choose to remember when I think about that day. Sometimes though, the sadness descends and I'm snapped out of my reverie and then, I see my sweet Maiyzie's eyes, wide as saucers as the ice splits and she begins to skitter about, losing her balance. Time begins to slow, and I stand, frozen. Poor Mayzie's arms are pinwheeling around and I, am rooted to the earth in terror.
When I remember that moment, I choose to rewrite history. I do not stand gaping, paralyzed, and ineffective as Mayzie disappears under the ice. I imagine all the ways I could have saved her. In my memories....
I am Mayzie's hero.
Mayzie's Hero • Opuss № I