Today, I received an email from Shannon. My best friend during the high school years. She announces that at the age of 43, she is now expecting her 5th child.
Communication with the other is a blink here, a speck of dust there. It is not uncommon for a significant life event to be shared via email.
I paused in reading and let the flood of memory soothe over. It took but a second, but years shared with this friend took hold of me and left me yearning for a bit of yesteryear.
10 years ago, i found myself in a writing class in downtown Minneapolis. Spontaneous writing moments were quick and an exercise in fluidity of thought. Tonight, while looking for an entirely different document - one that is relevant to my present day, I found an old writing assignment that I wrote in class. We were to reflect on a life moment that brought significance to the present. At the time, I had 3 babies at home and knowing they would one day grow up and explore their own adventurous exploits, I wrote one of mine.
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The Mission Impossible theme resonates loudly in my head. You know what I'm talking about, the one with the opening montage when the wick is lit and swiftly moves across the screen....The drum sound that mimics the frantic beat of a heart?
Delicate footwork finds us on the roof of my car. Black on black outfits set the tone for the objective. Wrench in hand, hammer in pocket; we approach the goal in silence.
Shannon and I soon get accustomed to jumping off the car and laying down flat when headlights come within line of vision. But, determination reigns supreme. Back on roof.
“Okay, I’ve assessed the situation and I think we can get it this time.” And sounding like any professional surgeon on the job, “Nurse, vise grip.”
“Police car. Jump!” Shannon shouts. And that is exactly what we do. We land on the wet grass and huddle close by the side of the passenger door. The car passes, we compose ourselves and we proceed.
Remember, we are on a mission and there is a job to be done. We will not rest easily with defeat. We have trained long and hard for this to fall through the cracks....well, that's a lie. But it sounds impressive and important.
Back on hood, over windshield, eventually on roof. A horn honks, a dog barks, a porch light flashes on – then off. Shannon’s demands of quickening the pace are muffled by the looming thunder. We look around cautiously. During that midnight hour, all is quiet except for the hissing of spinning wheels on wet pavement. Our breaths are quick and fast. Deep breath in and out. Mission accomplished!
The open trunk of my car dictates the use of side streets. We press our lips to the aluminum rims of the coca-cola cans. Our sweaty palms greet each other in a celebratory high five. We discuss where in her room the green and white Shannon Boulevard sign we just unhinged from the neighborhood street will find it’s refuge; above the trendy Mickey Mouse push button phone or next to the Jake Ryan, Sixteen Candles heartthrob movie poster.
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