No Parade For Me

Gasparilla is tomorrow.  For those that aren’t familiar with it, it’s an annual pirate festival and parade in Tampa that takes place every January. The festival is named after the legendary 18th century pirate José Gaspar.  The mayor surrenders the key to the city and the parade takes place in celebration of capturing said key.    It’s a rowdy event that typically involves lots of drunk people, scantily clad women and lots of beads being tossed.  

Gasparilla 2024 was one of the last times I saw Connor before he died (there were two times afterwards).  I distinctly remember walking the parade route before it got started.  I was on the phone with Connor dodging people looking for a good seat as we tried to find each other.  We finally connected and had a brief few minutes together.  He had indulged quite a bit already (hence the gallon jug), but he was still my clever, witty and charming son.  

This is the last picture taken of the two of us.  I will cherish it always.  I hope you can see the adoration and love radiating from me as I look up at him.  If only had I known it would be the last photo.

I will not be attending Gasparilla this year. I just can’t.  I may never be able to attend again.  I can’t imagine walking that parade route knowing that he and I will never seek each other out again.  ∞