This Sunday I was very lucky to have some time to myself to finish up some writing projects, alone. This is a big deal for me since I have a toddler. Click on this link to read an essay about identity loss and having to adjust to the new role of motherhood (you just can’t get up and go as you once did)
He is pretty amazing and cool!
Anyway, I love being alone. I don’t really listen to music that often. In fact, my music selectionhas pretty much always been country music and easy listening found on the am radio. In college, I had a 1979 Ford Fairmont that I loved so much I named him Frank.
Frank took good care of me in college and transported me back and forth to my student teaching assignment. Frank played some good tunes – but Frank only had an AM station. I fell in love with Big Band and 30′s and 40′s music. In fact, I named the car Frank because the first time I cranked his engine up, he purred like a kitten. And when I flipped on the radio, Frank Sinatra came on.
I am digressing — back to rainbows — Frank and I chased a lot of rainbows back in my single, childless, free spirit days. I am still a free spirit, but I certainly am not single and I certainly am not childless. I am so lucky to have such an amazing family. My husband is the most beautiful person I know on this planet (well he and my son tie for first place).
So I got a bunch of stuff done, if you call it that. I was social networking, tweeting, writing, blogging, organizing photos, and I even threw in steam cleaning my wood floors with my awesome steam cleaner the shark. I felt rushed for time, and rushed with energy and creativity. I played some country music, but mostly enjoyed hearing myself think and concentrate, for long stretches.
It came time to get ready to go over for our Sunday dinner with the in-laws, where said toddler was playing with his Pa and Grammy. My husband was cooking stuff zucchini, sausage, and spaghetti. (I know I am LUCKY)
So I finally dragged myself away from the computer and cleaned up. It was nice to take notice of the way time slips by slowly when you are not rushed or have a toddler clinging to your leg.
Well, because I was by myself and did not have to think about a toddler or other people in the car, I got that feeling from the big sky I used to get driving around in Wyoming in Frank, the 1979 Ford Fairmont.
The sky was big and blue with clouds of all colors from cotton white to dusky sea grey. It was magnificent. I pulled the car over to take some photos of a park I pass by but never stop. I thought it would be cool to get a photo of the high school building where Elvis played at once upon a time.
Then I started taking more photos and I would get in my car and then I would drive a little bit and stop. The sky was just so big and bold and filled with so much color. North Carolina sky is different than Wyoming sky, but this day it seemed surreal and the same. It felt familiar; it felt powerful. I went with the muse; she was in full force. (Note: I had just got off the phone with my husband before I stopped at the school where Elvis played once upon a time and the awesome husband who had just made a delicious homemade Italian feast said dinner would be ready in just about ten minutes – the time it takes for me to drive to my in-laws across town).
I said, “I’m on my way.”
I pulled over in an empty parking lot that offered an open view after leaving the Elvis high school. That sky was so intense and so bright. The blues were so many different colors and each direction you looked in the sky peek-a-booed another color from Mother Nature’s palette. Damn, She is a kick ass artist!
So, it is time to really get going and get over to my in-laws house. I have no idea what time it is, but I am giggling and pretty excited that I can just stop, put the car in park, hop out of the car, and take a photo. I don’t have to worry about the toddler, or safety protocol, or if I am annoying anyone with my hop-on-it-go-for-it-right-then-and-there-do-it-now-action-Megness. I start to drive, then another view opens up right before my eyes. Is this the same sky I have lived under here in North Carolina? It doesn’t seem so. It is new and fresh.
At right here, from this view, some song comes on the radio in my car, which is FM, and it is a song that Frank would’ve sang. It is an oldie and the melody moves me deeper into the muse. I spot the rainbow and I feel like I discovered gold.
“That’s it,” I hear myself say out loud, “I’m going rainbow hunting.” And I’m off to find a more open view.
I decide to drive to a field near my in-laws that I take walks in. It has a back road that leads to the subdivision where my in-laws live. Perfect, I will even save some time using the back road. Who doesn’t love a back road, right? I am just about fist pumping and high fiving myself and people that know me well, I was saying, “la la la.” I might have been making dolphin squealy sounds too. That is my trademark happy sound.
The back road was blocked with water from the hard rains the last couple of days, so I have to turn around and go the long way. But the colors of the sky could not be captured by a camera – it was something you just had to experience. I am sorry I missed dinner (I got there after everyone ate and my plate was sitting there all by itself).
So I was really ready to go now, I had to go – I thought I was actually going to be relatively on time for dinner. So, I went back, but I snapped this photo before turning left at the red light.
And what do you think I found at the end of my rainbow? I found my pot of gold — my son, jamming out to Johnny Cash with his Pa, playing “Car” in the car. Priceless and free — nature is always free, as well as, love.
I missed dinner, but my husband gave me a kiss and tagged out, retreating to a toddler free room. He understands I have the muse in me and he appreciates my creativity and sometimes distracted way of experiencing and capturing art. Man, I love him. I am one lucky lady who has certainly been blessed with a big ole’ pot of gold of family.
When was the last time you saw a rainbow? What/Who is your pot of gold?
Don’t forget to tune in on Thursday for the first profile for #Brain Tumor Thursday. It is an incredible story of an incredible beacon of hope and strength. Here is a sneak peek at the feature profile:
“But even in the face of grim statistics, one can always hope and pray about being an outlier, being the one patient who brings the average up by living far longer that the average or even the top number in a range of years. The companion to hope is faith in God. As I have said before, ‘As weapons against cancer, faith is the bow and hope is the arrow.’” – Brain Tumor Patient