5:30 AM Tuesday driving south on the New Jersey Turnpike
You see the downtown Newark window glass shining bright orange
And I see the red sun emerging behind the Manhattan skyline.
The glow of the sunrise light makes your face extra beautiful to me.
I realize it is 4:30 AM but for daylight savings time
And the sunlight will be with us for another 15 hours.
Your mind is thousands of miles away in Utah
Anxious to get to your stricken father’s bedside.
You are worrying about all the bad things that could happen next.
You are going to be unreachable for much of the day
Hurtling along in the plane chasing the sun west all morning
Hoping he holds on there in intensive care.
I’m doing what I can to take care of you
From cell phone to laptop to sandwiches for the trip.
You are scared and I try to help you be brave.
It’s hard to think straight. I try to help you decide what to do.
It is all so sudden, this life changes in a day.
Saturday all is well, there’s no hint of trouble.
Sunday morning brings vomiting and the gut pain is extreme.
Monday emergency surgery cuts away 4 feet of dead intestine.
Later I hear from you at the hospital.
His condition is grave but it seems he’ll pull through.
That’s such good news. Let the healing begin.
I asked you to tell him what I’m hoping for.
One day you might ask me to have you and yours
While he is still with us and can share our delight
You taking his arm walking as father and daughter
Coming towards me as we join our lives together.
