Friday, February 11, 2011

Morning and Sun

I could never have imagined the way this day would turn out.  It started out like any other sunny, summer Sunday, maybe a little hotter than some.  I leisurely drank my coffee while sitting on the deck basking in the early morning warmth.  Little yellow birds flitted from bird feeder to tree and the tiny hummingbirds buzzed the voluptuous, red fuchsias that spilled from the hanging baskets.  The tall trees swayed majestically in the soft wind that already carried with it the promise of the heat that the day would bring.  It was that precious time of the day when the dewy, freshness of morning mingled with the strengthening sun before the sun slowly climbed his way higher into the sky, ultimately, smothering his moist, young lover knowing, though, that he would see her again as he made his way back across the sky.  Ah, perfect.

I looked up as my husband came out and sat down in the chair beside me, coffee in one hand and newspaper in the other.  He reached over and stroked my forearm, affectionately.

“Good Morning,” he said.  “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well.  I am just sitting here soaking up this glorious morning.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.  I am just going to have my coffee and read a little of the paper and then I will have to get going.  My flight is at 9:30.”

“You’re leaving me, again.”  I smiled at him.

“Yes, I’m leaving you, again, but I’ll be back on Thursday.  Not so bad.” 

As he fixed his concentration on the newspaper before him, I contemplated my husband.  The years had been good to him and he was still a handsome man.  The two of us were opposites and we had always had our separate interests, but like Morning and Sun, when we came together for those fleeting moments, it was very good.  I was no longer dewy like Morning but he was still my Sun…and my moon for that matter.

I sat thinking of the life that we had built together.  It was a good life even if he was often flying all over the country due to his work.  It had always been that way.  Even though it was difficult at times, the kids and I had just learned to accept it because we all knew how passionate he was about his job.  That was just one of the many things that I loved about him.  When he was home, he was a wonderful father and husband.

The kids were grown now, both of them nearing thirty.  How did that happen?  Where did the time go?  The hopes for a grandchild was soon to become a reality as our daughter was getting ready to have her first child and I loved watching this peaceful woman emerge as the baby grew inside her. 

Our son was a different story.  Like his father, he had the wanderlust and had been traveling off and on for the last few years.  My biggest fear was that he would fall in love with some lovely girl half way across the world and never come home to us, but I was very happy that he was following his heart.  Life was good.  Life was very good.

My husband drained his coffee cup and stood up to leave.

“Gotta go.”

I stood up as well and his arms circled me.

“Love you.  I’ll call you tonight from the hotel.”

“Love you too.  See you Thursday.” 

He bent down to kiss me and I lingered in his embrace for a moment.

“I can’t wait until we actually have time to travel together.”  I couldn’t resist the one little dig.

He frowned, slightly.

“We’ve talked about this before.  Just a couple more years and I will be ready to retire.  Then we can go wherever your little heart desires.  Okay?”

I smiled up at him.  “Okay.”  I said, wistfully, “I just can’t wait.”

“I know, me neither.”

He kissed me again and then left.

I poured myself one more cup of coffee to enjoy on the deck while I decided what I was going to do for the day.  Maybe, I would go to the farmer’s market to pick something up for dinner.  My daughter and her husband were coming as they often did on Sunday.

I went inside to grab a piece of paper and a pen so that I could make a list and as I did so the phone rang.  I laughed to myself because I thought that it was probably my husband phoning to make sure that I wasn’t brooding.  I looked at the call display and didn’t recognize the number.  Deciding to take a chance, I answered the phone. 


The hesitant voice of a young girl answered, “Hello, is Brock Stantworth there, please?”

“He’s not in but this is his wife.  Is there something that I can help you with?”

There was a long pause in which I thought that, perhaps, the caller had hung up.

“Hello.  Are you still there?”  I asked.

Her voice was barely a whisper but the words were unmistakable.

“Yes, I’m his daughter.”

Then the whole world shifted.

This post is written in response to a prompt over at The Red Dress Club"This week's prompt asked you to begin your piece with the words, "I could never have imagined" and end it with "Then the whole world shifted."