I was already awake when I heard the text coming into my phone. I turned over and grabbed the phone from my night table.
“Mom, look at the sunrise!” it read.
My son had the early shift at work today, and with construction taking place on the highway, he headed off to work even a bit earlier.
From my bedroom window, I could see the rosy glow in the sky, but to fully enjoy the sunrise, I would have to get up and go to the living room. I’m glad I did, it was incredible. I didn’t snap a picture; it was just a bit early to have my thinking cap on, I guess. But I will hold the picture in my mind. Even more than that, I will treasure the memory that once again my son would share something so beautiful with me, knowing how I wouldn’t want to miss it.
“Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky in morning; sailor, take warning.” The old saying crosses my thoughts every time I see a sunrise it seems…something from my youth.
Anyway, this morning I was reminded of a time that my mom had shared with me. Her dad had come into her room late at night one summer evening, so that she could view the Northern Lights. He got her up out of bed and they had stood on the front porch together watching the sky.
I had also done that for Matthew one evening. I had been watching the 11 o’clock news, and Tom Sherry informed his television viewers, that we should be able to see the Aurora Borealis on this night.
Matthew was little at the time, but I immediately went into his room, and grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him. Come on, son; we are going to go see the Northern Lights. Living in town at the time, we wouldn’t be able to see much due to the city lights. So I decided we would drive out to the prairie, where I knew it would be open and dark and we would have the best view of the sky. We parked in a friend’s driveway, just to make me feel a bit safer. They didn’t know we were there, but I knew they wouldn’t mind. The show was beautiful, and the memory of spending this moment with my son when he was little is treasure.
It's pure treasure every time he shares an experience like this with me. I love it. I don't care how early, or how late it is.
As I type, I hear the raindrops hit the roof. The thunder shatters the quiet. Lighting flashes out of the corner of my eye. The storm didn’t take long to arrive. It’s a heavy downpour.
Whoa! Power-out! There’s my warning…reboot quickly to finish…but I had better shut down…I have to text anyway….
“Son, did you hear that thunder??? The storm is here! Are you getting it, too? 'Red sky in morning….'”