The sun setting on the western side of the Arkansas River, I had to go to the site of the crash. I know she's not there, that it is a futile exercise, that I will leave empty. Nevertheless, I went. The further west I drove, the more pink and gold painted the undersides of the clouds that remained from front that moved through all day. I pulled into the closed driveway of a road half way up the hill and stared at 71st street.. I thought about what she might have seen and listened to her songs.
I miss you baby girl.
I really don't know what I want or why I go - there are just times I have to give in to the idea that I could sit with her, that I could find her.
As the day succumbed, I waited for the traffic to abate and pulled across the four lanes of asphalt to turn east for home. The pinks and golds of day's end had given way to the deep blue hue of dusk, and the lights of Tulsa surprised me as I topped the hill at Yale.
It's a world that should be familiar, but that is still so foreign.
Some how, some way, I have to re-introduce myself to color, to home. I need to know this world where I remain and to greet it with the same passion and enthusiasm our students shared on Thursday. Each child faces a challenge when learning, and yet they eagerly shared - taking that perceived burden and turning it into a gift with confidence and grace and light.
I turned left on Memorial to finally head to the office thinking that my girl would be so much braver than I am being when the song switched and The Band Perry began singing "Mother Like Mine".
She's the sky that holds the clouds,
She's the lady of the house,
A blind believer in all I dare to be.
There's no safer place I've found
Than the shoulder of her white night gown.
Oh, I've go the best and worst of her in me.
Some how, some way I have to learn how to do this.