Carousel

This is how much she loves me I said to myself throughout the night. Allowing me to go alone to the park and ride the carousel until I could ride it no more. That is what I asked of her on the eve of Valentine's day.  A needed memory of being a young boy.  This was my desire. Perhaps a strange gift to ask of my wife...to be alone and act as a child. Sixty years had crept upon me all too quickly. As I lifted myself upon the beautiful steed, the twirl of the ponies, and the calliope began to sing to me. A young Mother with her son in her lap passed by in reflections upon the mirrored walls. I wished to be that little boy.  I wished for my own Mother.
I rode until ecstasy became pain and I could ride no longer. I rode until the dawn awakened me from my nocturnal trance. My walk home this morning was lighter, happier than it had been in thirty years.  I stopped to pick flowers for the cloisonne vase that resides on our rosewood dining table.  Merci mon petit lapin. Today I will go buy chocolates and macaroons for us to enjoy in bed.