Just the picture of the car and palm trees, and the words "tropical storm" in the context of Florida, strike me a vivid memory of rain outside the porch, through the screen. The smell of freshly wet palm trees, of the asphalt and sidewalks speckled with raindrops. And the TV weather broadcaster, announcing those words- "tropical storm". I can hear her voice, coming out from the TV in the living room. I am sitting across on the couch, hearing about the "possible weather", the kitchen to my left, which I associate with macaroni&cheese, fresh salads, blueberries&sourcream. Bagels in the morning, with an egg on the side, dinners around the dining room table. This is vacation. This is serenity.
I remember the last week I was there in August 2011 (last summer), actually- the last Shabbat. The last Shabbat I saw NL.
Friday night dinner.
Imma was with us, so it was a full Fallet reunion. Except for UJ. He lives in Brooklyn. But right when we started eating the doorbell, with the tune that you can change, rang. NL went to open it and let our a cry
She could hardly hold her breath, because UJ showed up at the door, all the way from NY, on this very Friday night. NL sat down, well AR sat her down, or UJ, I don't remember, in the kitchen with her hand on her heart, still in shock, excited beyond breath, crying out "oh, oh!"
We all sat around the diningroom table that I love most in the world.
With the people I love most in the world.
For dessert NL surprised us with a cake for our first anniversary. A cake with white and purple frosting. Very sweet and smooth frosting, the kind they have in America, the kind I like.
What can I do with a memory so sweet?