Fatale Abstraction

Exactly two years ago husband and I drove my sister and her chillins out to see our beloved Grandmother in Arizona. The day we left for Dallas, it was difficult to leave her, and we lingered until late in the afternoon. Nephew was 1 and niece was 7, and we knew they'd go to sleep soon after the sun was down. We sped along the highway meeting few cars and seeing fewer still traveling in our direction. Through southeastern Arizona the sweep of our lights illuminated the majestic Saguaro along the roadside, the desert sentinels standing and beckoning through time across the span of 6 human lives. The Cure's Disintegration looped in the cd player, a brilliant counterpoint to the profusion of stars across the darkening velvet sky, the lush layers of guitar arabesques reflecting the brittle desolate beauty of the desert and its indomitability. Then into New Mexico, the outlines of mountains closer. Everything about that night is as palpable as ever, and I can reach out and remember that feeling, the beauty and the heartbreak as we made our way home.