Last night I sat on my porch waiting for her call. "Get a hold of yourself, man," I said as I pulled on my cigarillo. The evening cicadas were calling - so characteristic of the South. I realized I had spent most of my life waiting. Waiting on something better to happen instead of making it happen. There are so many moments where I've wished. I wish I'd said this, or held on longer. If only. If I'd opened my mouth. If I turned around. If I said what was on my mind instead of turning away. I jumped out of my seat and suddenly called my father.
"I'm headed to Atlanta, tomorrow," I told him as I paced the floor. "I will see you at our normal time."
"What brought this about?" he asked.
"Far too often I've sat on my laurels waiting for life to happen," I said. "I am going to make it happen for a change."
My father was at a loss for words. He told me to be careful and to not miss my medications. I hung up the phone feeling a fierce determination. I hadn't felt this way in years.
The car is full of gas and I've packed a lunch of sandwiches, chips, and fruit. I have a very good idea where Rosa is staying having lived in Atlanta for a short while. I just want to give her a show of support. A familiar face to embrace and to let her know I am just a short drive away. I'm not going to say anything rash. I just want to see her and her plaintive voice over the phone line has been calling out to me. I think a road trip will do me and her good. Here's to grabbing the proverbial bull by the horns.