The Morey House

The sun went down today on the dusky brown mountains west of Redlands.  The flatland adjacent was a patchwork of green Orange groves and yellow grasslands which were baked in the 102 degree heat.  It was smothering.  A train horn broke the silence as it zig-zagged through the plain in front of the mountain.   The air was hot, humid and heavy with anticipation.

 

We were prepared for the morning trip to Loma Linda.  The surgery was scheduled for 5 AM which meant a 3:30 AM wake up call to negotiate the fifteen minute journey to Loma Linda.  I just finished the final phone call with the staff at Loma Linda.  I talked to a young woman who wanted to confirm that I hadn’t yet fled or otherwise made myself unavailable for the surgery in the morning.  She wished me luck.  Did I need it?

 

It reminded me of Kevin’s birthday at Disneyland.  For some ridiculous reason I found myself in a line for Space Mountain, a roller-coaster ride in a pitch black building.  Who dreams up these things?  As my head spun with fear and anticipation, I realized that if I got on that ride, I could end up as a cheeseburger in some alternate universe . . . just before someone ate me.  My head was distending thinking of all possibilities.  I actually think my brain left this universe on that day . . and hasn’t returned.

 

What was I doing here?  Why didn’t I just get Kevin a present like another piano, a car, or maybe some jeans at the anti-mall?  I knew if I got on that ride, that all bets were off.  Then we were first.  It was now or never.

 

As I looked down the hill, I pondered Kevin’s birthday . . and every other time I did uncomfortable things for someone special.  No magic, you just get on the ride and scream your head off.

 

I better lend Nancy my BOSE earphones for the trip tomorrow morning.