Colour Parallax

New York, 1994
‘The wretched refuse of your teeming shore;
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me;
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’

These were the last few lines of the verse at the entrance...the entrance that looked more like a vestibule, considering the size of the mesmerising colossal statue, the Statue of Liberty, which Brittany, the kids, and I were visiting. It had always been my greatest desire to see this magnificent national monument symbolising freedom for the people of America.

‘What a momentous historical monument,’ I uttered, as we walked away from our impressive visit.

‘Oh, yeah! It is,’ Brittany replied, impressed.

‘It’s a beautiful work of art,’ Denzel added admiringly.

‘Donated by France to the United States to commemorate the centennial of United States’ independence from Britain in 1876. The statue has been adopted universally as a symbol of freedom,’ I read to them.

‘What is commemorate?’ Jennifer quizzed.

‘To honour, or to keep memory alive! To celebrate independence!’ Denzel replied sensibly.

As we walked along, away from the statue, through a vista of trees, I saw a woman right in front of us wearing a pink dress and a navy blue hat. Walking beside her was a little girl in a white, flowery dress with white socks and shoes to match. The woman had Tara’s curvaceous figure, and although years had passed, I could still recognise that adorable but now eternal body.

She slowed down a bit and then looked back, grinning her usual sensuous smile. It reminded me of the smiles I used to know so well and cherished. I smiled back, not knowing if she was real or a ghost...or maybe the whole thing was a dream. Maybe she’s timeless and travelling from another world, a peaceful world, I prayed. She winked as I looked on, and the little girl waved as we continued walking past them.

‘We missed you,’ Tara whispered as I looked sideways, and she waved her hand slightly, perceptible to me only.

‘Daddy, I miss you,’ the little girl whispered sadly, with tears rolling down her cheeks. I was really startled and mournful at this profound gesture.

‘Could this be my unborn child?’ I thought.

‘I told you I would always love you,’ Tara reminded me, still whispering.   ‘Remember one of our songs -- Our song -- The Lijadu Sisters! “If There’s Reincarnation” -- I will love to come back to the land, where I was born, yes baby, I would do. Yes, baby I would do -- Everlasting life awaits you there, no matter where you come from. Oh! No matter where you’re. Rein-carna-tion, awaiting (for)  you! (Reincarnation). Reincarnation has no regret, so you please, take me there, bring me back home, where I be-lo-ng,’ Tara droned sadly. I alone could see her and hear her sweet and melodious voice. Denzel started pulling me, to walk on. Tara waved again, and I waved back.     

‘Dad, who are you waving to?’ Denzel enquired.

‘Never mind,’ I replied, and then looking back for the last time, I saw Tara wink happily and raise her thumb in acceptance of my new family.

‘I will always love you,’ I promised, whispering.

‘Me, too!’ Tara vowed. ‘We will always be your guardian angels.’ And we departed in our different ways. Would I ever see them again? Only time would tell!