Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Vapor

Golden sun splashes warm on our faces, reflecting in our playful banter as we stride out into the day. Little fingers dance in our hands as we squeeze between the row of cars seeking the van. Our eyes meet with a smile, as I feel Cole's fingers slip free...t i m e...s l o w s...

Little legs churning to ourace his giggles...

Black and chrome blurring as it barrels down the aisle...

My voice warping with time as muscles tense...

Freezing in the center his eyes catch the glare off the windshield...

Gravel crackles beneath tires sliding...

A cold shiver washes down my spine as snapshots of his young life fall in a cascade across the living room table in my mind.

Whump...weight shifts as the truck drags to a stop, his body pressed to my chest as I kneel in the dust. Fears and tears pool in the corner of his eyes as we all take a breath.

And then another.

Each breath a sweet taste of life as our lungs fill, then exhale, here and now. At 10 we get a later bedtime. At sixteen we can drive. At eighteen we can move out. At 21 we become dangerous. At 40 we get a tatoo and a motorcycle and call it mid-life. At 65 (or some ambiguous date) we retire, so we can live the good life.

What about everything that happens in between?

Always looking forward we can forget to live, now.

Before the vapor blows away with the leaves in the wind...

30 comments:

Ronda Laveen said...

Had my heart pounding with this one! Happy ending, yea!

Brian Miller said...

Yeah me too (nervous laugh)

Pastor Sharon said...

Brian, I hyperventalated until I got to read that he was safe in your arms. Oh my . . . those moments bring us to reality of living now!
I'm glad he is okay and that he is blessed to have a wonderful father who loves him so much!

lakeviewer said...

Well said. When we don't live in the moment, we don't live at all.
Your children are lucky.

otin said...

I was talking to someone the other day about how many close calls people have in their lifetimes and how one little thing could have turned from a near miss to a disaster. I was sweating this one!

willow said...

It's so true. And there's no rewind button.

blueviolet said...

I couldn't breathe until I got to the end. Wow, that was something.

Joanna Jenkins said...

That made me sit straight up in my chair. Phew! Glad all's well. And yes, it goes by way to fast.

I'm just back from vacation so I'm off to catch up on your posts.

Joanna Jenkins said...

PS Love the new profile pic!

subtorp77 said...

otin and Willow have it so right. This mirrored a scene from my own life, Brian...I still sweat just thinkin' about it...

Too, "little legs churning to outrace his giggles"...wonderful :)

Kay said...

Very true, I quoted the saying just the other day and once again find it significance in your writing, "it is not the destination, but the journey" Blessings.

Cinnamon said...

Oh close shave- so glad he's safe. a timely reminder to live each moment we have to the full.

kylie said...

oh yes, i know that feeling. my tiny princess actually got hit and i watched her rollver the bonnet and off the car.
apart from some very wet pants she was unscathed

it was a miracle

beautifully written brian

only a movie said...

Wow.

Candie Bracci said...

Beautiful post Brian and so true!Have a wonderful day!:))

Brian Miller said...

@PS - luckily it was not a harsh reality and a happy ending. i am still in awe of your honesty...so heartfelt.

@lakeviewer - and it is better to live...smiles.

@otin - i lived through so many close calls i sometimes wonder how we made it out of childhood...

@willow - tight. like the rewind comment...so true...

@blueviolet - me too.

@joanna - welcome back! hope the rest of it went well.

@subby - have a few of those sweats as well...and shivers. ty.

@kay - love that...

@cinnamon - timely...

@kylie - oh my stomach just flipped...i can not imagine...glad they are well. think my heart might have burst...truly a miracle.

@only - yeah. whew...

@candi - hope you have a great day as well!

Lorraine said...

oh hell don't scare me like that, i felt everything, and that relief I felt it too. My son was young once, now he is 21 and I thank God everyday. Sometimes you make me feel too much, I know it's the mark of a great writer.

The Retired One said...

I, like many other parents, I am sure, have lived that exact moment.

And now?
My girls are in their 30's, I am in my 50's and I still worry about them in the same way.
Still listening for a tone in their voices on the phone that alerts me to some distress they are not ready to share...still thrilled when I hear excitement in their voices when they are motivated in some new project.
It doesn't end when they are older.
I am sure when my mom was dying in her hospice bed in our home, she was still listening to our activities with her "mother's ears", as I was holding her hand in the same room, hearing her hoarse last breaths.

Daniel said...

I have lived moments like this in my mind many times. Perhaps, this is why I am so overprotective and why I worry so much when my little one is not with me. Hope you all find some peace and regularity after this one.

Meeko Fabulous said...

That was intense. Brian, you are such a talented writer. It was like I was there, living it. I even breathed a sigh of relief as you all took a breath and then another.

reyjr said...

Hi Brian, that was not a good feeling. :O

I'm always uncomfortable when I hear stories like the one that almost happened in your blogpost. I find it's too painful to talk about, and am actually quite uncomfortable mentioning it now... er.

I'm happy he's fine.

Brian Miller said...

@reyjr - sorry. should have put the adverse reaction label...

Brian Miller said...

@meeko - ty. was a tense one on this end as well.

@retired one - wow. what an amazing comment. dont even know where to begin, just enjoying it.

@daniel - some of my worst nightmares are about not being there to help...

@lorraine - does it get any easier when they are that age?

Maxine said...

You write beautifully. Have you published much of your work?

Heather Sunseri said...

What beautiful writing, and what a wonderful reminder to live in the hear and now.

Thank you for stopping by my blog and saying hello!

Kate Hanley said...

This reminded me of the time my son was about to dart across a street in Philly as a car came barreling down - time stopped as I grabbed him but my mind pictured his getting hit. I can still recall each nano second of that moment. Very vivid writing Brian - good job and glad to know your son is safe as well.

Alan Burnett said...

The great thing about this piece is that it reminds everyone who reads it of an occasion in their lives - of one of those instances when time might stand still but cannot go back. Of course, the art of good writing is being able to conjure up all those personal memories in each of us.

Mrsupole said...

You had me scared with this one. Glad it turned out okay.

And they do grow so fast, too fast, blink and the years have gone by.

God bless.

Lorraine said...

yes when they became men, you have to trust that they are men, I trust my son to care for himself the way he should lol
of course let's not talk about my reaction every time I hear there's a car accident....LOL geesh

Stacy (the Random Cool Chick) said...

Major chills...and I realized I was holding my breath until I got to the part "as we all take a breath". Now I have to go give my Princess Nagger a great big hug... :)