Listen As My Sun Sets

He blinks a few times, the light a little too intense for his unacquainted eyes. Looking around he knew he wasn’t in his room, at least, not his current room. It was his childhood bedroom. Pushing himself up to a seated position, he smiled. He twirled his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. It was a lot less effort than he remembered, and the amount of energy exerted didn’t make him winded. Noticing a mirror over a short dresser, not able to remember if it had always been there, he walked over to it and peered at his reflection. He hardly recognized the man with the kind eyes and dark brown hair that looked back at him. When was the last time he had seen himself with brown hair? There were less smile lines around his eyes, and his old age spots had disappeared. He was back to the man he was in his early twenties.

With renewed pep in his step, he walked out of his room and to the front door. Throwing it open he walked out to the fresh air, jumped down the steps and held his arms open. The sun danced on his skin, he closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath in; something he had been unable to do for quite some time. It felt amazing to be able to breathe like this again. He moved his gaze around the yard and marvelled at the brilliance of the royally coloured marigolds in the garden. Time had taken a turn back and brought him to the 1960s. Walking to the sidewalk he looked down the street from left to right. Sun reflected into his eyes as a car pulled up in front of him and stopped. Bending down, he peered into the passenger window to look at the driver.

A young woman with big glasses and curly light brown hair sat smoking a cigar. She waited for him to open the door and climb into the car before flicking her hand to rid the cigar of ash out her open window. At least, that’s how she hoped it would go. Instead, a bewildered looking young man hesitantly got in the car. As she went to flick the ash she remembered that she had not opened the window. The cigar met the window sending little specks of ash around the car. She frantically threw open her door and jumped out brushing the sparks off her skirt. She fixed her hair before getting back in the car. She closed the door and cleared her throat.

There were a few, very long, awkward breaths before both of them erupted into a fit of hysteria. After twenty-two years, he was lost for words and overcome with joy. Here she was, exactly as she had been on their first date. Her laugh filled the car and flooded his ears. It took them a good ten minutes to regain their composure. They locked eyes and she smiled at him as she put her hand on his.

“I’m so proud of you Dave.” He felt how genuine her words were. They came from a place of love and respect. She had been watching over him for two decades. Watched how he turned his life onto a healthy path. Watched him fall in love again and grow the family they started. Watched all of her grandchildren grow up and start having families of their own. She had cried with them, laughed with them, and took slight pleasure watching her kids, as parents, receive the same generational sass she had.

Hearing her voice and the words she said brought instant tears to his eyes. Not that it was hard to make him cry; he had always embraced his emotional side. Memories played in his mind like a movie and he sat back with his eyes closed to watch. It started with the sounds of chaos and war, from which he hid under the kitchen table with fingers in his ears. As the sounds faded out the smell of fuel from the Queen Mary filled his nose as he played with the other kids aboard. Heading to a new life in Canada.

He thought of his childhood home. Standing just out of sight before closing his eyes and wandering into the kitchen to sneak a cookie. It was a brilliant idea. Seriously. If he closed his eyes, he couldn’t see his mother; and if he couldn’t see her then she couldn’t see him. He felt his sweet tooth begin to ache at the thought. He heard the squeak of the cabinet door as he tried to discreetly get some chips as a late night snack. Then his teeth began to hurt from the time he knocked his teeth out with a pacifier, or when a childhood friend punched him. He thought of getting fitted with fake ones, and making kids squeal with laughter as he jiggled them around. The laughter of his children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren erupted around him and with it, peace. He saw the love and delight in their eyes, which only encouraged his inner “tricker”.

He felt his muscles contract as if frantically paddling to avoid getting sucked into a whirlpool on the Detroit River as a cargo ship rolled in. The ship passed and he was in a small motor boat fishing. Peace flooded through him. Reminding him why he grew to put safety first. He thought of the difficult times, the people he has said goodbye to, the addiction, the pain of his father's words. But those were washed away by the love he had been surrounded with. Peace came once again.

He thought of the love he had shared, and the families that had grown from it. The adventures and travels he shared with the love he was leaving behind. The experiences they shared and the people the two of them became is a truly beautiful narrative. Perhaps more beautiful than the green Larry shirt and bright pink swimming trunk combo.

Feeling his thoughts grow busy, he felt the anticipation of three weddings in one summer. Wedding bells dissipated as machinery and warehouse noise took over. He was back in the GMC plant, working on the sewing machines. A loud bang brought him into his kitchen, and he turned to see his granddaughter rubbing her head. She had fallen for his cupboard door trick and decided to try it on her own; only, she was too young to realize there was a finger between the door and her head. He bends down to pick her up.

Turning, they find themselves at the young girl’s home looking out into the vast field behind her house. Deer were grazing in the early morning dew.

“Look Papa, it’s deer like at Deep Bay!” the girl said, pointing her finger to the glass.

“You’re right.” He spoke with a smile.

“Can we go ride them?” She asked eagerly.

“Ride them?” He questioned back.

“Mommy said when you go you ride the deer.” She spoke matter of factly. He smiled at her. Little did he know, the idea of riding a deer stayed with her. On her seventeenth birthday she wrote a bucket list, including deer riding; as it had always been something she wanted to do.

“Not today, we have to go set up your new bed.” When the bed was built and made with special new sheets from Grandma, Mollie folded her hands behind her head and looked at the four people in front of her.

“Now get out.” She was dead serious with a hint of sass. Once the four had left the room, laughter ensued. Later that evening, after the young girl was in bed, he went to check on her. As he slid along the wall and peeked his head around to see, he was shocked to find she had slid along the other wall and had the same idea to peek around. They held eye contact before both embarking on a retreating slide. The next morning the young girl woke up to an apple on her pillow.

A flaming olympic torch was being handed off to Dave. He lifted it high, feeling the symbol of peace it was meant to be, before picking up his pace to jog his allotted distance. Cheering and clapping filled the air as he ran along the street. After handing it off, he falls back onto a couch, and he is in his living room ready for a nap. Someone begins to whisper his name. He looks around...nothing...so he closes his eyes again. But the whisper comes back. This time when he opens his eyes, he is looking into the loving eyes of his mother. She’s pointing to her chin. He smiles, and pulls out a pair of tweezers, and helps her with the odd chin hair.

His long shift at the plant has finally ended and he pulls into the driveway. Putting the car in the garage, he hovers his hand over the hood of the other family vehicle. Still warm, meaning the kids were out past curfew. He chuckled to himself, thinking about their false sense of accomplishment. When he looks back at the car, he is reminded of the new paint jobs and subsequent scratching that occurred and now made peace with. Making him chuckle yet again.

Finally he was sitting on the dock at Deep Bay, with a cup of tea watching the sunrise enjoying the serenity of the moment. His family was beginning to stir in the large open room of the cottage behind him. He was now witnessing the fourth generation to enjoy the secluded hunting cabin. His great grandson had been filling the camp with giggles the same way Dave witnessed the young boy’s mother and grandmother do before him. This time, peace remained.