Thursday, September 26

In the desert, latte in my hand

Mom and I went to the park to visit Auntie Donna's cactus today. It's a stunning saguaro cactus in a protected place, and I'm incredibly happy that we found it for her.
Sure, it's completely illegal what we did more than five years ago, but it's certainly a beautiful spot, yes? And don't we all take our loved ones someplace lovely that we maybe shouldn't at some point?
Anyway, the walk is perfect, and the sky was an awe-inspiring blue this afternoon as we made our way up the hill and through the desert. The visit was Mom's idea, and it was a good one, since neither of us had been by to visit since before I left Arizona for The Place That Must Not Be Named. We saw a couple lizards, saw a couple cool little plant-life anomalies, and we were warmed (to say the least) by the sunshine and slight breeze. [Editor's note: I actually got a little bit of a sunburn on my shoulders. No biggie.]
But my actual moment of brilliance came more than an hour earlier, while I was on my way to pick up our Starbucks before getting Mom at the airport. I bought Auntie Donna a latte.
So, while there, we poured one out for our homey, and had a few moments, appreciating the awesomeness that was my Auntie Donna. It's very gangsta, right? I'm straight up, my friends.
She'd have loved the cactus we picked. She'd have loved seeing the two dragonflies we saw humping in midair while we walked back to the car. And she would have loved that I said, fuck the calories, and got her 2 percent milk in her drink.
That woman was incredibleness in a fantastic package, and I miss her terribly. It's a pretty place. I think she likes it there.

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