All Along the Lakefront

For the past month or so, I've started taking long, leisurely walks through my neighborhood and down along the Intracoastal Waterway. It's quite beautiful, especially at night, my time of choice. The outlines of the vast wealth of Palm Beach lay across the water. Their lights cast a muted glow as I stare back, never part of that scene. Behind me lays a row of far less expensive but still stylish, elegant abodes I've also never quite been privvy to, never affluent enough to live in them.

All through my childhood and beyond, I rode down Flagler, dreaming of waking up in one of these homes. I imagined walking out the front door, kissed by the sunrise. Such a gorgeous neighborhood, filled with homes of distinction. The waterway just to the East, and multitudes of joggers, dog-walkers and cyclists winding their way. It's still the same now. Some houses have been torn don, but for the most part it is intact, and as I walk along I feel like that teenager, still longing. I live close by in a delightful apartment, but I still find myself outside of the world to which I longed/long. It always seemed to represent something I could never attain, me, of such humble upbringing.

These walks also allow me to communicate. Being an only child, and someone who spends significant amounts of time alone, I find myself lost in thought, sometimes audibly. As I walk the lovely Drive, I speak out loud to former friends and family-some who've passed on, some who've faded away. I ask them what they're doing, how life has treated them. I tell them what has transpired in my own life. I like to believe that as I'm speaking (yes, aloud, but who cares, I could be on my hands-free cell phone!), my recipient can hear me. Perhaps, a thought of me passes through their heads at that moment. I've spoken to former girlfriends, and I tell them about my fiancee. Last night I even spoke to my childhood cat, who was my best friend. Mickey was with me from the time I was 7-20. He died in 1989. One of the worst days of my life. I cried again last night as I spoke to him. I like to believe he is in Heaven, curled up and waiting for me just like all those days gone by that he waited for me to come home from school.

These walks are therapeutic for me. I also survey my current life. I am blessed beyond measure. The past is filled with all manner of good and bad. The walks let me take stock, and anticipate all the wonder of the future......

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