Sunrise

Arizona is a wonderful place to stare at the sky.  A night full of stars, the pastel colors of twilight and dawn, the long slanted light of February or the dagger sun of July; the light changes, fills and illuminates.  On a Tuesday morning, the nurse reached over and shut off the Propafol dripping into my husband's veins.  The ventilator sighed in the corner, the breaths moving steadily in and out of his lungs.  I spoke his name over and over, trying desperately to keep my voice calm and steady, hide the tears that had filled my head for the past week.  Slowly, the lids lifted, and that white Arizona light filled his eyes, firing them to a radioactive blue.

We would camp in the desert; in the lavender dawn and over a cup of coffee, Bill would look over the quiet world and quote Kipling:  The sun comes up like thunder, from China across the bay. And the Sun would indeed break the horizon, shooting long dark shadows, turning the red rocks into fire for the briefest moment..

Life is like thunder.  The sky fills with an intense light, the roar crashes and fills your head beyond the capacity to hold any sound; then darkness and silence. And another lightning bolt, another, another ; and then, eventually, a quiet night under a black sky drilled with brilliant and unblinking stars.