Go Fly a Kite

As a kid, one of the many things I suffered through is something I suspect every kid in America has had to. When shopping with me, if I made a fuss over some toy or another, my mom would promise that we'd buy the toy next time, upon our return. She would even go so far as to hide said toy elsewhere in the store to allay my fears that it would be picked up by some other kid more fortunate than me.

I loathe holidays and hate birthdays. But I love cake, especially marbled cake with butter cream frosting! Anyway, part of the reason I feel this way is because we were poor. My mother rarely had money to buy any gifts, let alone the gifts I hoped for. This taxed her emotions far more than it could ever tax mine. I'd be hard pressed to recall three of the gifts I agonized over. I wouldn't be surprised if my mother could recall them all. Obviously my requests tapered off much sooner than most kids'. I couldn't stand to see the self-loathing on my mother's face on what seemed to be just another day to me, but was in actuality some "festive" holiday or another. The torment she endured as a single mother on the streets still haunts me to this day.

One year, I'm not sure which, I awoke to find actual presents under the modest tree. Presents. Plural. Ah, the way a child's mind works. I reasoned that if there were several gifts under the tree, then my chances of getting one I had wanted were greatly increased. As I recall, there was a sweater, a pair of boots, and a kite.

The kite either had Big Foot the monster truck on it, or Transformers. I was bummed. I liked Ghostbusters. And I didn't like kites!

I think it was several days before we actually put the thing together and flew it on a dark-clouded, windy day.

I distinctly remember putting the sticks into their proper slots, much like a tent.

I remember not having to run far before the wind took over.

I remember rare, pure, childish joy.

Somewhere along the line, that memory melded with the viewing of Mary Poppins.

To this day, whenever I'm more depressed than any human has a right to be, when I feel the waves of Darkness calling my heart's name, I find myself reminiscing in sketchy, blurred details, that day. And humming the tune Let's Go Fly a Kite.

Let's go fly a kite
Up to the highest height!
Let's go fly a kite
and send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let's go fly
Fly a kite!

I can't seem to get that song out of my head lately.