Monday, January 21, 2008

MOONFLAKE SERENADES

I think one of my sweetest memories of my daddy was when he took me out for snowy night-time sleigh rides—just the two of us!
He bundled me up like a little papoose, tucked a hot-water bottle by my feet and covered me with a cozy, soft blanket! As we sailed along, he told me stories of the 'olden' days when he was a little boy. His daddy would pull him in a sleigh through the night snow, all the while keeping him, as he expressed it, "snug as a bug in a rug"; but instead of a hot-water bottle, it was a towel-wrapped brick which had been lovingly heated in their fireplace!

Although daddy sang to me all the time, those special sleigh-ride serenades became forever beautifully etched in my heart. Even now when I am very still and quiet and I close my eyes tightly, I can feel his wonderful winter serenades cocooning my soul. I remember "Oh My Papa", "My Darling Clementine" and "A Bicycle Built for Two". Even more glorious than the hymns he sang, were his Christmastime renditions of all my favourite carols! But the most fun we shared was when he invented new songs, about “us” and “fun” and “love” and “happiness” and “forever”...as we carved our memories along the snow-packed trails.

In between songs, our world was so silent and still: no cars, no people, just the "crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch" of daddy's big, black rubber boots, unlatched and flapping as they rhythmically pressed their patterns in the new snow. So bundled up I couldn't move, I’d just lean way back in my sleigh and try to dangle my arms over the sides. With daddy as My Protector, I was fearless, even when the passing snow 'monsters', flanking each drive-way, reached out to grab my wooly, double-mittened hands.

The tree limbs bowed so painfully under their crisply sparkling white armour, that every now and then a loud crack announced their inevitable capitulation. While picture windows poured their golden yellow warmth into the night air, monstrous icicle daggers, filled with glinting starlight, warned of danger for any who ventured too near. Under our black-navy-blue velvet sky, spackled with the magic dancing glint of faraway worlds, I watched in amazement as moon-rays joined partners in a silent waltz, in step with my daddy's boots. While illuminating our path, in tandem step, they mirrored our every turn.

Soft snowflakes settled on my nose and cheeks, lengthened my eyelashes and danced an icy fandango on my tongue.
"Where do the all these snowflakes come from daddy?"
After a deeply pensive moment came my daddy’s own, very special reply:
"These are our special snowflakes, Bunny and they come from the moon—they float all the way down from the moon."
Why of course they do and they are too! Certainly he was right! I should have known that these weren't ordinary snowflakes! Daddy said, and my daddy never lied:
"Bunny dear, these are our own very special, mystical, Magical Moonflakes!"

Although I always hoped those enchanted wintry sails through the Moonflakes would go on forever into the infinite night, our journeys always ended at our front door where "her" terrifyingly secretive, depraved and venomous anger halted the serenades. With a hate-filled glare, she instantly melted, (correction, vaporized), our delightfully fleeting moments, vanishing them just like the breath from the depth of our souls...into the endlessly dark and crackling night air.

With the greatest anticipation, and a secret little prayer of hope, I always begged:
"Daddy...will there be Magical Moonflakes for us tomorrow night?"
...and he always assured me with just the tiniest promise:

"We’ll see, Bunny, we’ll see..."

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