Since I'm too old now to crawl onto his lap, I breathed him in for that two hours and hoped the movie would never end so I could stay close to him like that for as long as possible.
His dad smell flooded my head and my heart, carrying me away from the fantastical apes on the screen. Instead I saw in my mind's eye the time my first real boyfriend broke up with me and my dad held me in his big arms and cried, too. I remembered that when I left for college, he hugged me so tightly for the longest time and refused to let go. I thought back to the escapist hours we spent tearful and shoulder-to-shoulder in dark movie theaters after my mother died.
And then I remembered that now I'm somebody's mother. And that my dad loves a woman who is not my mother. Somewhere along the line, the map I'd been following changed. I grew up; she died; and he found a new direction because he had to.
I miss the days before everything changed, when he and I were automatic. But yesterday's two hours-- side-by-side with just him--felt like the warmest blanket on a cool, heavenly night.
|Image via Observando|