It's 6 am. Laying in a cool room I remember that we are vacationing at the beach. Just Seth and me. I hear him snoring and know he's still traipsing through the Land of Nod. If I hold my breath I can barely make out the rushing sound of the waves. Our room sits on the beach and the anticipation of our last day causes me to slip from the bed. Peeking onto our balcony, I see the sky is still black inkiness. The moon is full and bright but remains the only light in the dark sky. I dwadle a little, trying to let the time pass so Seth can sleep in. When I can't bear it any longer, I pull back the curtains again and see the thin gray line along the horizon. Fearing I will miss my last sunrise at the beach, I grab Seth's arm and he jolts awake.
I feel like two year old Elijah, who used to wake us up in the wee hours of the morning with a tug on my arm and exclaim, "Sun's up!"
"The sun is coming, let's hurry!" I urge.
Wordlessly, he dresses and numbly follows me outside to the sand. He's tired, sleep in his eyes, and the imprint of a pillowcase on his cheek. Nevertheless, he smiles and makes a goofy remark, punctuated by singing, "I like staying up late and you like waking up early."
I love that night owl who crawls out of bed to watch a cloudy sunrise just for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment