Let's go out and feel the night.
I was bald. I was sick. I was going through chemotherapy treatment. It was the summer of 2007.
One night, there was a sultry, Key West breeze blowing through the flat lands of the Midwest. We decided to take a drive into the little village about 3 miles from our home.
One of my favorite indulgences is ice-cream. Not that soft serve, ultra-sweet kind, that is extruded out of a machine much like poo. No, I like the creamy, full- throated, sensuous, dense-with-flavor ice cream made by Baskin & Robbins, scooped up by a muscled teenager.
After parking the car, we walked to the ice cream shop and ordered a cone. Mine was cake, his was sugar. Two scoops each. We left with our sugar prizes in hand; the streets were crowded with teenagers enjoying the night. We wanted somewhere quiet to sit and savor our sweets, so we wandered over to the railroad tracks and sat on a bench as if waiting for the next Amtrack.
The light was soft denim blue. It seemed to cocoon us in a suspended state of peace.
It was a silent communication between to halves of a whole, each savoring the cool, sweet, lava flow of flavor dancing on our tongues. At one point we began to discuss that the most delicious anticipation is that final bite of cone with melted ice-cream exploding like an ocean of flavor in our mouths.
Even now, 10 years later, I can feel the wonder, hope, and love we shared. Most importantly, I remember a visceral passion to carry on.
I wanna see you dance again...
* Lyrics from; Harvest Moon