Constant Presence

September 30, 2012
By Anonymous

You are the one who has always been there for me. You probably don't remember this unimportant little memory, but I do.
I was only a child, no bigger than six years old. I was small, slender, with my long brown hair falling over my bear shoulders and peacefully lying over my back and around my waist. I remember how I could feel the hot yellow sun beating down on my exposed shoulders as we stood a few feet apart in our big, old front yard. I wore my light pink halter top with the hot pink paisley trim lining the neck portion of my shirt. I could feel the thick, healthy, green grass in between my freshly painted light pink toe nails as the comfortably warm summer breeze blew through my long hair.
Compared to me, you were a giant, and I looked up to you.
You had just changed out of your camo uniform and replaced it with your soft blue jean shorts and cotton grey short sleeve shirt.
We went outside to play, like we always did when you got home from work. I enjoyed this daily routine. Maybe that’s why we became so close, because you were always there for me.
As I turned to look at you, smiling my toothless grin, you displayed in your hand, a foam-covered football with a black plastic tail sticking out its back. You stood there, just waiting to get his attention while you prepared to launch your foamy toy. You gripped it so powerfully, digging you fingers into its spongy sides, and wound up your arm, contracting all your muscles. You pitched your orange and yellow whistling nerf football so mightily. As it flew, I could hear its whistle through the air over all else.
As the football landed around the corner of our tall brown oak fence, I could hear the thumping and thrashing of the exceptionally hefty black paws pounding down into the soft Earth. The dog, so colossal and so magnificent, dashed through the yard to retrieve the cushioned toy. He came galloping around the corner, straight towards my father, toy in mouth, with his lips flapping in the wind. He had such a goofy look across his huge face as he made his way back.
You stood there, smiling a familiar soothing smile, at the big black gentle giant as he ran around the corner and jumped into your thick arms where you wrapped him up around the legs and pulled him into your chest in a strong, loving embrace. He looked just as big, if not bigger, than you did as you lifted him up and held him there, frozen as a statue.
To me you seemed more than exceptional as you lifted that Great Dane with ease. Then you let him go, and as he continued to run around, I ran too. I ran straight to you, landing in your wide open arms that had already been there, waiting for me.

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