Last Saturday's evening run turned out to be a late night jog with raccoons along the lakefront. Apparently they too are working on their fitness- that, and eating garbage. But really, don't they both go hand-in-hand?
Prior to my run last Saturday, I took Bernard out for a long walk. On our usual route we passed by the Glessner museum which in the summer doubles as an after-party venue for South Loopers who say "I do". Last year during a single summer, Bernard and I walked past, poked our heads in and saw drunk white people dancing to Thriller. Bernard promptly peed on the side of the building. We're such a great match.
Last Saturday however, I saw something different. An open park behind the Glessner house gives way to a beautiful garden filled with lilac and freshly mowed grass. The people who manage the park don't allow dogs so it's perfectly manicured and you never run the risk of walking into something stinky.
The side entrance to the garden is across from our normal dog walk route and normally the gate would be closed. But not Saturday. As I approached the corner to take Bernard back in, I saw two people standing, their backs towards me. Just standing. Waiting for something.
I examined their clothing. The slightly older woman wearing a beautiful suit with gold and cream. Perfect for a cool end of summer afternoon. The younger woman to her right in a gorgeous gown. Dressed from head to toe in layers of beautiful fabric and holding a bouquet of roses tied with a perfect white ribbon.
They were waiting, out of sight for the music to begin. Mom and bride would make a grand entrance into the park and she would be married moments later. I wondered what they must be thinking. A faint trumpet played in the back. I couldn't even see anyone in the park waiting but I knew just a few feet ahead the people who care most about them (and vice versa) were waiting to witness such a beautiful event.
I never saw their faces. But shortly after stopping and staring.. the traditional wedding song came on, Mom and daughter looked at each other and walked in to the park and disappeared.
Okay, okay, stop crying. It was moving, yes I agree. But it was so positive. So happy.
With that moment ending, a new moment began. Different stages in our lives. Different moments of waiting.
I went out and ran 18 miles that night. On the way home, I was able to run back south to the fireworks from Navy Pier and an encore performance at the Shedd Aquarium. Those fireworks were for me. To say, these are your moments. These are your celebrations.
-S.G.
