Last month, my love and I planned an appointment with celestial bodies.
We intentionally and carefully picked the day: October 5th.
We intended to wake early, drive across town, and drive up a mountain. Subsequently, we would walk to a rock formation, sit facing east, and patiently wait for the sun to make its grand entrance. Meanwhile, the full moon would make its exit behind us. Additionally, hubby and I would have a bird’s eye view of the vast city below awakening to a new day.
The Best Laid Plans
As I previously confessed in a post, we regretfully missed this appointment.
The demands of motherhood, manifesting as my son’s rendezvous with the dentist to fill a cavity, trumped our intended very matinal date (matinal is fancy talk for early morning). Indeed, an event which doesn’t hold the same mystic as an appointment with the moon and the sun.
I nonetheless lovingly drove my son to the dentist and waited patiently until he was through. We even enjoyed lunch afterward. The day was put to good use as we gratefully relished our time together.
Undeterred by this turn of event, I resolutely placed a bold star on November 4th for our engagement with the sunrise. A date I now intended to guard jealously even while I gingerly planned my twins’ 10th birthday party for the same day.
We planned our date thus: we would wake early with a 4:15 am departure time, travel to our intended spot at which point, we would behold the heavens as the light of the moon waned and the light of the sun ascended.
When through, hubs and I would drive home, maybe catch a nap before the birthday party, and thus celebrate our sons’ entrance earthside.
However, life—again—threw us a small curve ball. My Senior’s football team (incidentally the same son with the cavity) remained undefeated the entire season. Thus, they garnered a spot in the playoffs. The first game would be, you guessed it, on the November 4th.
Nevertheless, all was not lost!
The game was scheduled for 6 pm and would not affect our planned pre-dawn tryst. Only the twins' birthday party—which we were able to move forward to Friday—was affected by the schedule change. Gratefully, the boys understood the need for a switch.
Saturday, November 4th, 3:30 am, I awoke on my own a half hour before the alarm clock blasted through the night. Hubby and I quickly dressed in the dim lights of our night lamps. I brewed some chai tea which I poured into a thermos for later. Lastly, we grabbed a warm blanket and quietly made our exit as the rest of our home's occupants still slumbered.
Under the watchful eye of a pregnant moon, we made our trek across town, and our subsequent ascend up the windy road fourteen miles up the mountain. A great horned owl crossed our path in the darkness.
Upon arrival, we marched to our viewing vista. I sat bundled in the blanket, perched on a huge boulder; my face turned toward the eastern sky.
Hubby and I waited with anticipation—while I sipped my still warm chai—for the lighting of the sky heralding the sun’s grand entrance.
We didn’t have long to wait. To the east, the heavens went for black to navy, further exploding into various shades of blue, purple, pink, and orange. I excitedly tried to capture the sunrise’s beauty with my cell phone camera. Alas, my inadequate camera could not do the dawn’s vivid colors justice. The vermillion of the sky was barely peach on my picture.
As if the morning was not perfect enough, my love turned to me and said: “you are so special, thanks for coming.”
That’s right; my man is a jewel.
We talked, laughed, and also sat in reverent and comfortable silence.
Memories were made that day.
Hubs and I smiled as we listened to another couple less than 100 feet from us. They sat on another boulder as one of them softly strummed a guitar. Their guffaws were welcome and lighthearted.
This couple reminded me of my Love and me twenty-five years ago when we were just starting out. In many ways, we are not all that different twenty-five years later, and at the same time, in a weird paradox, we are vastly different.
Life has shaped us, grown us (is that even a word?), refined us, and dedicated itself (rather well I might add) to our not becoming stagnant.
We have shared wonder-filled moments and heart wrenching ones. We have also lived through the routines of being parents and daily life. Neither of us is a stranger to doing the laundry, grocery shopping and yes, going to dental appointments.
Our existence together has not been all glamour and sparkles although we have blessedly had our share of such moments. Life together has also been raw and sometimes messy. Despite all the circumstances we have weathered, our love has only deepened, and it remains today vibrant and sturdy. Our passion for each other also endures giddy, heady, and yes, new.
I love my husband deeply.
I was glad for the moments we shared on our sunrise date.
On our way home, we called our twins to wish them a happy birthday and tell them we loved them. Thereupon, we decided to go to breakfast.
We also made an unplanned detour to a bakery and grabbed some flaky and buttery delicacies to eat on the way home as well as to share with the kids upon our return.
My croissant was delicious and tasted just like those from home—France. I was impressed which is no small feat since I—admittedly and unashamedly—am a croissant snob.
What a marvelous day!
By then, it was only 9 o’clock in the morning. All of this wonderment was entirely due to my saying yes!
I stayed open to the magic of possibilities, newness, the unknown, and the unusual (for me at least). I didn’t stick to my usual routine of wishful dreaming which never comes to pass because I don’t carry said dreams out. The word “no” can be the death of lofty ideas. What I received in return for my “yes” was intoxicating, fun, and memorable.
I am now planning a full moon hike for next month. I didn’t even wait for hubby to ask me this time. Instead, I took charge and asked him to accompany me. He graciously said yes.
Who knew saying yes was so addictive?