A Sweet Memory

When I was ten, my family and I visited my grandmother in Tampa, Florida for the Christmas holidays. I remember sitting on her front porch one dusky evening after dinner with my dad–my younger sister in his lap, and me in a rocker to his right.

I wasn’t accustomed to time spent like this with my busy father and something moved me to sing “Silent Night.” Being a pretty fair soprano in the school choir, I sent clear, sweet notes into the night air. My father must’ve enjoyed this little offering because he said to me, “That was nice, honey.” Unaccustomed to praise, I soaked up the compliment and the magic of the moment, as we sat quietly together.

Wanting to prolong the intimacy, I brought up a subject dear to my heart—horses. I had just finished reading “Black Beauty” and I asked my father, “Dad, if you had a horse what would you name it?” “Oh, honey, I’m no good at things like that,” he replied. But I insisted. “Come on, Dad. Just pretend. What would you name it?”

He stared out into the evening and thought for a moment. “Limpid,” he said. “Limpid?” I asked, perplexed and disappointed. All I could picture was some limping old nag. “What does that mean? Why did you pick that?” I asked. “Oh, if I had a horse it would be beautiful, like a limpid pond.”

I was disappointed at his choice, but kept it to myself. No matter. Soon, my mom called us to come inside and it was back to business as usual.

I found out years later that my father had chosen my name. Cecilia. Looks like I got off easy.

WW2 dress uniform

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About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard, doing things with my grandsons and spending time with my beau on his beautiful 22 acres in north central Florida.
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