Saturdays of Yesterday

SATURDAYS of YESTERDAY:
Four Square, the "civilized" ball game for skilled children much too short to play basketball. I remember this game well. It was my precursor to tennis which I gave up for badminton. Ah yes, badminton. I call it "fairy tennis". The ball has feathers, it never touches the earth, and you sprint and reach like you are casting magic around you. And little did I know that when I played, it was toning my legs,butt,thighs and giving me lungs worthy of a pearl diver.

Then my homing device, also called my stomach, would kick in when the smells of spaghetti and meatballs or fried chicken and mashed potatoes would come wafting out the kitchen exhaust fan and up the street to the corner where I played. A blonde,green-eyed lady with a wide waist was placing plates around a farm table in a tiny kitchen. My place was against the wall on a bench with these other kids who sometimes bumped into me during the day. A stick of butter was in the center of the table as always, for butter topped everything, even spaghetti. I would conference with these strange other kids. We would work out our hectic schedules and promise to see each other after we finished our individual and most earnest endeavors. Then after I conquered the world and sucked up enough fresh air to fill all the tires in the Tri-State area, I felt homesickness kick in. Usually around dinner time. I would swing back into my dirt driveway and park my bike like a prized mustang in the corner. Wiping my feet on the porch mat I'd take one last look around at the outside world. Yes, I kicked some Saturday butt and now I could rest.

Once in my place of honor against the wall on my bench and directly under the light switch, and this was important because it often got dark at this time and I got to flip the hallowed switch, I noticed that some funny looking kids also found their way to the table too. One was chewing with her mouth open and one was eyeing me suspiciously while clinging to the nice green-eyed ladies' apron. A third one always seemed to have to get up and use the bathroom,thereby making a game of musical chairs necessary. This threw off the mealtime concert of chewing, swallowing completely. He always was a little button-pusher.

So there we were, on Saturday. The day meant for personal discovery and family conferencing. How good it all was. I think of that slice of heaven and wonder if the house God has prepared for me will look anything like it. I wonder if my relatives will come and gather there and will I sit snuggly on a bench, shoulder to shoulder with my siblings. Since heaven has no darkness, I suppose I won't get to throw the light switch. Maybe the switch would set off sparklers or put a seat belt on my brother instead. I could finally eat my pile of mashed potatoes uninterrupted for once. But are there meatballs in Heaven? What will my bike look like? These are questions people, these are the questions. Questions that can only be answered while eating Lucky Charms in Whole Milk while sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a rabbit-eared TV on a Saturday morning.