Sunrisings

Sunrisings



A thundercloud hailed taxi.
Stuck taking a cab to work
Because my car had broken down. Again.
Sitting in rush hour traffic, watching the cents click by:
Years of my life were ticking by.
The light changed twice
And the cab never budged an inch.
Driver said, “A car’s broken down ahead.”
My whole life was breaking down.
The sun was hiding behind tall buildings
And my world was in shadow.


I almost missed her call,
Traffic noises all but drowned out
My cell phone’s song of Alan Jackson’s
“Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?”
I picked that song for my daughter’s calls
Because she’s in the Navy.
But she doesn’t call me from Spain
On my cell. Ever.

“Mom, Charlie and I are here in the states!
In Colorado. We are halfway up a mountain
And it’s almost sunrise.
I wanted you to be a part of this, Mom.
I need to hand my cell to our witness.
Talk to you
Afterwards.”

What?
My mind buzzed. Half-thought thoughts
Jack-hammered.
I couldn’t focus.
Everything screeched
to a stop.
The meter in the front of the cab
Ceased its ticking.
Nothing was making sense.

“I Charles, take you, Cara
To be my wife. . . “
Words faded. Oh, I’m sure I heard them
But they were forever lost as my brain
Tried to wrap around what I was hearing,
What I was missing.
What are they doing?

“I Cara, take you, Charles
To be my husband, to be my other half,
The half that will make me whole…”
Blurred visions half imagined, half heard
As my daughter eloped
Halfway up some mountain in Colorado.

“Could you hear it, Mom?
We're married, Mom!
I’m so happy, Mom.
Mom? Say something!”

The sun was winking between buildings
Gilding the ancient cab with golden light.
Married? My baby?
Flights from Spain and Iraq ending
On a mountainside in Colorado
During a golden sunrise.
“We’ll send you pictures! Bye, Mom.”

Married? “Hey lady!
We’re here. Ride’s on me.
Congratulations!”


The sun was beaming
As I walked into work.