Phone call. Explanation. Dad (saying he would met up with us in a day or so) had flown to Lubbock and we continued with plans to Phoenix. Uncle Buster and Aunt Judy had tried a bit of everything to distract our distraught thoughts. We went to Target Great-land; we ate at Organ Stop Pizza; we attended Major League baseball try-outs. I was helplessly worried (you know how it is to have annoying song lyrics on your mind—like that, except these thoughts of hearts and doctors and death didn’t have a catchy tune). Phone call. Mom’s voice was trembling—my eyes spilled over with burning tears; my Spring Break was devastated. I had no words. My fearful dreams were coming true. When had I last seen him? Had I remembered a departing kiss? Why did I have to be stuck in the middle of a desert when Grandpa was dying? Burning my arm through the glass, the 5 o’clock sun still shone into the back seat but could not dry up my salty crying. Nothing could. It was March Madness, and I didn’t care. Dad arrived, told us the details, and my vacation ended: flooded with memories.
9 months ago
4 comments:
The first time I read it, it gave me shivers.
I don't even know what to say. You've said it so well. Even now the tears flow. Hugs, my sweet girl.
:'(
I agree with mom. You're making me cry. Life is short. We never know how much time we have left with those we love. Every moment counts. I remember it so clearly and you captured it so accurately.
I love you!
I've had to let this one cook for a couple of days.
Wow.
This is really well done. Really intense. Really evocative, which I think is what you meant it to be. Good job.
Christ's blessings on you.
PB
Post a Comment