Destination Sunrise

Everyone remembers their first car. More than the shiny parts and rumbling engine, it represents the end of childhood and beginning of freedom and independence. My first ride moved faster and further in my mind than the four wheels could take me, but I longed for every mile and yearned to get there, with no destination in mind.

Before the break of dawn, I nudged Mom to tell her I was going for a drive to capture the sunrise. She woke up in tears, not accustomed to me being awake at this hour and trying to block the scathing memory that came flooding back, from an early awakening just one year ago. At the same bedside, the beginnings of her repeated panic attack would be a natural reaction to mimic the dark day, but I assured her all was well and I would be just fine.

It isn’t about the car, or the sunrise, or the photo. It isn’t about escaping home or finding my freedom on the road, or the independence I wanted to grip on the steering wheel of my impending adulthood. It was all about my brother, Nate.

My older brother, and only brother, never had a first car. His choices led him down another road, one that I plead with the devil to block from my innocence, but one that beckons and teases me nonetheless. I want the picture this morning in the presence of the rising sun, in hopes of finding peace and comfort. The devil wouldn’t be caught anywhere near the dawn of a new day.

As I pass the foggy fields and see the beginnings of the sun, I feel his presence in the wind. His spirit whispers encouragement to be brave, as I welcome the cool breeze from the open windows and swallow the lump in my throat. The car is a means to an end, but it engages the much needed air on my left arm and cheek and lets me leave behind the stillness of the concrete driveway that brings no answers, only lingering questions.

The farmer’s field invites me onto the dirt path, and I find a spot that looks just right, at the angle to the sun that feeds my soul and shines on the rims beneath me. It’s a sunrise made for me and my red Mustang, possibly hand-delivered from Heaven above, on a day I needed to feel the love. The sun brings a promise that another day will come and it will be accompanied by beauty, not the ugliness of life that shadows my nights. It’s one promise I can rely on, and must seek to find day by day.

Streaks of fuzzy peach and Sundrop yellow frame the large oak tree in a hue of angelic light. The sunrise hovers over the car like a spotlight for the featured image below, when in fact the light is the very subject that matters. Inside the bands of color, I find forgiveness. As the shades evolve by the moment and shift with the rising shadows, I find my hope in the lights that escort in this day. Like the car is not about my freedom, I recognize that his choices and broken promises are not about his will. He wanted to keep his promise, that’s why he made it. He just wasn’t strong enough to fight that damn devil.

This car is for you, brother. Every ride includes you, and I will listen for humble wisdom in my travels ahead. I plan to seek and find life’s answers on these four wheels, and live a life to make you proud. Not just any life, but the full and happy life that was stolen from you, and one I plan to embrace with grace, in your honor. No demons can touch that.

Like the advice you gave before your own ride ended, I purposely intend to ‘live a little’, starting today, starting with first gear.