One Moment

There are so many moments in life that one looks back on with fondness and a sense of warmth and comfort. One such moment that I reflect on quite often was coming back from my father's burial. I was driving my father's car with Marina riding shotgun and Michael in back. We all felt a sense of relief that the day was coming to a close and since each of us stood and spoke about my father that day, there was a great deal of anxiety that was finally leaving us all.
We were driving through the suburbs of Abington and listening to Debbie Gibson's Out of the Blue (I had just bought that album and playing it from the funeral home to the cemetery to the banquet hall kept everyone in the car steady and light.) and I suddenly remembered that I had the last pack of Camel Blues that my father had been smoking. I asked if anyone wanted to smoke one of my dad's cigarettes. Marina, who no longer smokes, and Michael, who only smokes menthol, both said "Absolutely." We lit our cigarettes, raised them to our lips and said, "To Tom" as we took our first drag. Then we cracked the windows and sat in calm stillness as Debbie told us all about that Foolish Beat.