Jun 24, 2013
There was a lull in the activity yesterday.
2 p.m.: The Shaughnessy yard was set with a large tent, tables and chairs, the beer and wine on ice, and siblings and cousins and other family yet to arrive for the late-afternoon mass and dinner to celebrate Dan and Joanne and their 50 years together. I was sitting under the tent enjoying the quiet. It was a hot day in Cleveland, with an occasional breeze, and I was mesmerized by Transatlantic, the splendid new novel by Colum McCann. When the lull had given way to family embraces, champagne toasts and a long and delightful slideshow, I was telling anyone who’d listen about the book. It’s so good, and I read the final pages soon after I arrived home in North Carolina after my solo 550-mile drive.
I’m sitting in this silent home now. Thinking of that Cleveland yard. The family filled it yesterday. Friday, too.
We had filled a yellow school bus that morning, and went on a tour of some of the places Dan and Joanne had lived (down the road) and played (at the beach), with a family photo at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum and a visit to the Cleveland Museum of Art. Once back at the house, we inhabited the yard. The adults sat in the shade and talked. We drank beer. The kids ran and played. We ate pizza and watermelon. We talked some more.
I keep thinking of the photos in the food magazines I read, the photos of families in yards sharing meals and memories. Timeless photos. Timeless moments. The last few days were just that.
Anton Zuiker ☄
© 2000 Zuiker Chronicles Publishing, LLC