Yesterday, I was with my daughter in Kendall FL. She had a medical appointment, so it was a combo of medical and mother-daughter experience. Love being with her – she’s a special person. Everyone who has her acquaintance is aware of how special she is. In many ways, she takes after her father.
We had an early lunch in the Bahama Breeze restaurant. It was a lovely, relaxing luncheon. The menu was varied and eclectic, and we settled on a salmon platter. Karen, our waitress, made the time a delight, as well as the good food.
Just before leaving to get to the medical appointment, we heard a song being played on their audio system that was very familiar to me (Yellow Bird). It brought back memories of many years ago – to be exact, a couple of weeks in the summer of 1963, spent in Flemington NJ, when my daughter (almost 3 at the time) and son were very young.
The company that my husband, Danny, worked for, owned a horse farm where standardbred horses were raised for the races. A free vacation was offered the employees at the ranch. The accommodations were very comfortable, and we were given a lovely 2-bedroom space (was just like a high-class motel). Included were meals, a lovely pool, and the ability to make our own entertainment. There was a stage and all the necessary accoutrements for putting on a show.
There were quaint and popular shops in town, where everyone could meander and buy some glassware and dishes at the Flemington Glass Factory, also referred to as “10-R-10,”
or buy fur coats and fur jackets at Flemington Furs (this was much before we became aware of the killing of wild animals indiscriminately for their fur and carried on for the greed of poachers due to demand for fur clothing).
Flemington was an historic town, and we enjoyed many hours there, meandering amongst the many shops and little museums.
My son was 6 months old, and one day, at mealtime, he refused his bottle, and only wanted to drink from a cup or glass. I can picture in my mind: he was sitting in the stroller next to our lunch table. I had fed him before we sat down at the table, and saved his milk bottle so he could be occupied with that while the rest of us ate. He was way ahead of his time! Must have been something in the country environment – clean air, farm smells and horse odors evidently agreed with him!
One of the husbands (employee) who was also vacationing with his family, sang and played the guitar. My Danny played the harmonica (he was very talented). The two of them got together several times, rehearsing a popular tune of the time: “Yellow Bird.”
So, when I heard that song coming over the audio system in the Bahama Breeze restaurant, all those memories came flooding back.
And, it is fitting that I write this post today. I think of my Danny every day, even though it’s been many years since he died, and I married again and lost my Bob a year and a half ago. Love never leaves your heart.
It is fitting that I write this post today, because July 17th was Danny’s birthday. Happy Birthday, love. Rest in peace.
[images from bingdotcom]