Someone Had To

The sun will never let you down. Though it may occasionally blind you on the 405. It may hide behind another hemisphere in the winter or a stratocumulus cloud in the morning. But the sun insists on its warmth nonetheless.

The parking lot at the corner of Vermont and 6th will never let you down. Though it may occasionally repulse you with its odor or worry you with its sleeping bodies. It may hide the homeless beneath a Mercedes Benz or a cardboard cubby. But the parking lot insists it has space for all its residents nonetheless.

Your mother will never let you down. Though she often transcends your patience. And she hides tenderness under the shield of worry and inside the jurisdiction of her home. But she insists that it is love nonetheless.

And you feel the warmth, you feel the space, you feel the love.

And you tell the sun and the parking lot and your mother, “It is too much, all that you have given me.”

And the sun and the parking lot and your mother form a chorus from one of those tragic Greek tragedies and they sigh together, “Well, of course, Benjamin. Someone had to.”

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