She attempted to drown out the commotion with her iPod blasting. It seemed like no matter how loud she turned the volume up she could still hear their thoughts. The woman behind her with the crying child kept wondering if it was really worth it...if her marriage, the kids, the constant judgment from an inept mother-in-law was worth the twenty-two years of preparing for perfect. Then there was the man in the expensive suit, and his maniacally laugh and contempt for whomever it was he was speaking with on the phone. She was glad to hear the purity in the three-year-old singing across to her left, but even more profound was what how the little girls mind envisioned the tune; there was beauty, peace, simplicity. She vaguely remembered what that was like. To be little, to be at peace, to be whole. She would never feel that way again. Something was taken from her, something that, no matter how many people said would return to her, she would never have. She was angry now...though no one would see that side of her. Even in the midst of all the beckoning thoughts around her, she could maintain a smile. She closed her eyes and let the music cleanse her. Through it, she could lose herself in lyrics that distracted her. She could return home to before the fighting and arguing with her parents, when they still loved each other and pretended it would all be ok. She knew there was no going back to that, trying to accept her father's death. But with the music she could relive every moment, every story he read her, every song he sang to her, every hair he had brushed from her face. Through the music, she could see his face, she could hear his voice and he was alive. But just like their walks together, the song had come to the end, but still she sat there trying to listen to every last note as faded to silence.
|
0 comments