The Road w/ Anna Part 12
Her father as well as Ana arrived back in St. Augustine the next morning to a cold wet breeze. Ana had forgotten how odd the weather could be back home after you’ve been away for so long. During that first week she walked along the halls of her house looked at how old it felt coming from a place that held so much life in the ancient buildings. Now the quiet seemed far too much to bear as she roamed around the house looking for things to do. It only caused her to think more and thinking wasn’t always a good thing for her.
So she took up the keys to her car and blasted the radio as she drove all around town before taking a detour down I-90 south towards New Smyrna. She stopped near 22nd street and stared out at the beach as the tide started coming in. Forties jazz drifted from one of the houses along the shore as she smiled to herself realizing that some things about her stomping grounds hadn’t changed and that brought a sense of comfort to her. She remembered when she used to come here just to imagine herself in another time when handsome me wore uniforms. The music always made her yearn for a simpler life and a sense of when music was meant to be beautiful. It was something to think about when life just wasn’t as it should be when it came to how they were. Home for nearly a week and already she was going off to one of the places that made her feel whole once more.
Her brother was sent off to the hospice that morning so she knew that it was nearing the end. She wouldn’t be able to hear his voice echoing through the halls or hear him working on his old mustang that he had been trying to fix up to its original glory. Ana breathed in the cold night air as she tried to calm herself down from breaking into a flood of tears. She had shed tears much too often as of late and she wondered when she would ever stop.
She laughed to herself as she thought of what Jack would say to her right then seeing her the way she was. He never believed in heave or hell but he had faith despite all that. Growing up southern Baptist taught her that as she touched the cross that hung around her neck. It had been passed down to her from her greatest grandmother and she always touched it when she thought of them even now for her brother. He wore their grandfathers’ wedding ring that had been passed down to him after he passed away. Jack had big enough fingers to wear it perfectly. He would have given it to his own son she thought to herself. Their aunt would never have wished for it back due to all the history behind it. It wasn’t something their aunt would have wanted back and Ana was grateful for that. So much history flowed through her veins that she was grateful for those who reminded her of where she came from.
She looked up at the few stars that made their way through the darkened clouds and smiled. She was home at last despite all that she had seen and done. A turn of a new page even for her because she knew that Jack wouldn’t make it through the night and for once she wasn’t sad about that. He was right he had lived one hell of a great life just like their mother had.
