Day 90: When the Sun Meets the Earth

It’s the last sunset. My son wheels me out to the spot out in the country. Near the field with the one oak tree, standing tall on top of earth like a gigantic head of broccoli. It has been awhile since I've been here. We moved away when the kids graduated. They moved to college and other towns. Saw what they wanted of the world. The wife and I sold the house and saw what we wanted. Spent a lot of time down south as us old people do. We like the warmth. At least, we liked the warmth. For awhile at least. Had to move back to spend time with the grandkids. They grew up quick. We all did, it seemed. Somehow it all flashes by and right now is the only moment that ever existed. That’d be alright with me.

The entire sky is painted red and purple with streaks of clouds like brush strokes. It’s one of those rare nights. Those calm nights with the occasional breeze to remind you that the earth is moving. Aging too. But it never seems like it. I wonder if our world knows it’s aging. Always changing and recycling on itself. Probably not thinking about anything. Probably living life the way it should, just enjoying the journey.

I try to stand, but my bones hurt. The cancer had gotten the best of them and will soon take the rest. It’s alright though. Ninety-three is enough years. I did all I could and then some. Let go of the regrets long ago. Let go of the house and moved into a home. Let go my health, it seems, but it’s all natural. Doctor said it could have been the years of smoking when I was younger. Or all the frozen food. Hmm. Don’t matter what it was. All that matters is now. My son helps me out of the chair and holds me so I don’t wobble over.

The sun is so bright I think I might go blind. That’d be something. That’d be hilarious. Even as an old man we still wonder like children, despite what all the adults say. I don’t stare directly at it though. I glance over at my son who’s getting up there in his life now. He’s staring at the sun and the tree and scanning the land. I wonder what he is thinking and want to ask, but I know thoughts like that deserve to stay in so that the energy recycles inside of us. Moments are good that way. Like spirit food.

Many minutes pass without us speaking. I didn’t hear any animals in the woods surrounding the field. Not even the wind whistled. There was a stillness in everything. Things stopped hurting for a few moments and I was able to stand on my own. A small gift from the universe. I took a few steps out into the field and fell down on my knees. My son rushed to my side, but I brushed him off. I wanted to feel the dirt and grass. The mother that gave birth to all. Even me. To there I shall return. Grateful that I had so much time to walk around.

When the sun finally slivers down across the horizon and all the stars blink awake for the night, my son takes me back to the car. I don’t know if this will be the last night, but it was the last night here. This place where all my wonderful thoughts found a spot to sit. I pull out the road map and mark it with an X. The map looks like my wife’s beaded necklace stretched across thousands of miles. Lines leading to more circles. More moments. More last times to see.

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Image by Johannes Plenio from Pixabay