“Our kids are going to be creative thinkers, free spirits, sometimes a little moody. And we’re going to teach them to cultivate the land, sing happy songs, and appreciate sunsets. Don’t ever doubt my love for you. Just come back.” His thumb dusted my lips.
“I love you.”
“I know it.”
Whiskey Wild’s song “Goodbye, Sweet Sunrise” played on the radio. And I laughed to tamp down the tears threatening to fall. The song was about leaving your hometown, saying goodbye to all you knew and the one person that was hardest to leave behind. I sang softly the words I’d written years ago, just as relevant today as any other.
Goodbye, sweet sunrise,
Goodbye, your brown eyes.
This small-town heart’s gotta chase the sky.
I’ll carry you in every mile,
Your memory in every smile.
Goodbye, sweet sunrise, but not goodbye to you.
Hume sunsets were like stepping into a painting. The sky a masterpiece of colors, with streaks of amber and gold melting into fiery oranges and soft pinks. As the sun dipped lower, its warm glow bathed the rolling hills and fields, casting long shadows that stretched lazily across the grass. Silhouettes of oak and cedar trees stood tall against the glowing horizon. Their leaves rustling in the faint evening breeze.
The air was sweet, a mix of honeysuckle and grass, with a hum of cicadas creating a soothing, rhythmic backdrop. Overhead, swallows darted and dove, their movements graceful against the deepening hues. As the sky transitioned to lavender and indigo, the first stars began to twinkle, and the faint glow of fireflies dotted the edges of the field, like nature’s own string lights flickering to life.
It was the type of sunset that made you linger. We leaned into one another, savoring the beauty of this moment, one of our last. Leaving Hume had never been harder than it was tonight. I’d toured in over one hundred countries, sold out stadiums,screaming fans. I left Hume in search of something, only to return years later to find my whole world right here in my hometown. The sunset was a warm reminder of home, peace, and the quiet magic of Hume summers.
Exhaling a deep breath, I said, “I think I need to start writing some new songs for these new memories.”
Back at homeI walked around aimlessly, silently saying goodbye to all the things I’d miss. Goodbye rooster kitchen. Goodbye house of curiosities. While Edison was in the shower, Katt and I spent some quality time on the couch and the shy kitty tolerated my petting her. The house was silent apart from an unexpected rain that danced on the tin roof. My daddy was right, the sound was intoxicating.
Upstairs I passed Yeti who’d made a home in the corner of the hallway right outside Edison’s bedroom. When I entered, he was already laying down in nothing but boxers. I jumped into bed, straddling myself over top of him.
“Please be easy. I ate way too many ribs,” Edison half teased.
“No one was holding a gun to your head.”
“You know I can’t say no to your dad’s ribs.”
“County fair winner for best ribs seventeen consecutive years.”
“And it’s well deserved. Maybe a little rigged seeing how your mother is always one of the judges.”
I gagged. “She’s impartial.”
“Is she?”
“Yes. The best ribs always win.”
“And those ribs just happen to belong to your father?”
“Don’t you start those nasty rumors.” I playfully needled him in his chest.
“You’re gonna miss the cook off next month.”
“I am.” The smile disappeared from my face. “I wish you were going with me.”
“If I could, I would. But I can’t leave Dial to run the nursery alone with no notice or preparation. Especially with my parents looking to move. We have a lot of knowledge transfer to cover in a short amount of time.”
“I know. I totally understand. I’m just not prepared to miss you for months.”
