Monday, November 3, 2008


My daughter and I, donuts in hand, stood at the 5k mark of the NYC Marathon yesterday and cheered the runners on.

We high-fived runners and yelled for what seemed like the entire population of both France and Italy.

But the most mesmerising moment came 18 minutes into the race. That's when she appeared. I could see her in the distance, her tight, taught and toned body gliding effortlessly towards me. My heart raced. Suddenly she was upon me. The sight of the muscles in her legs, the muscles that could crush my skull in a second, made my knees go weak. Her face, free of any make-up, shone like fresh summer's day.

My daughter in one hand, my camera in the other, my donut stuffed into my mouth. I nearly panicked. I spit out my cruller and yelled, "Melisa!" The very sound of her name like angels singing.

She looked my way. Her eyes glistened. She smiled. Her smile pierced my heart. And then she mouthed, "I love you, always!"

At least that's what I think she said. It could have been, "I'll have you arrested." But I'm not sure. Either way, my future wife and I locked eyes, locked hearts. Our souls fused and shot out through eternity.

I shot picture after picture, unable to aim. But I captured more than a few ill-aimed pictures yesterday. I captured her heart.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Do you really know Melisa; and more importantly does she know you? Your comments about her are very concerning.