(no subject)
I was going to write about other things, but then this afternoon happened.
I woke up upset...because I was tense, because the Russians had a party last night and it kept me up, and a train near my window jerked to life around 2am and scared me, so I didn't sleep well.
I had wanted to ride my bike this week but kept putting it off. Angry about that, I took it outside and rode it down the length of the train and out of the yard to an apartment complex across the street. For maybe 15-30 minutes I rode up and down the pavement between apartments and just listened to the silence, the breeze, the gears clicking. I tried to think about non-circus things, like what it would be like to live here, what kind of house would I have eventually, things like that.
After a while I decided to take a break and started looking for a spot to do that.
Back in North Carolina, when I wanted to be alone, I went to a graveyard. There wasn't one handy here...only a small public 'park' about as big as a 30-car parking lot with a few trees and benches and a sidewalk wrapping around it. But when I rode my bike under the trees and the wind made the leaves rustle, I wanted to stop. So I parked the bike under a tree and just sat and listened and watched the patterns the leaves and light made on the sidewalk.
After a while I started to calm down, like, inside, where all the trouble is with me these days.
No one was in the park, so I stretched out on the grass and shut my eyes.
The smell of fresh grass, and the feel of it under my hands, and the sound of the leaves, brought back lots of memories.
Of when my mom lived in 'the green and yellow house' with the big backyard, the tiny garden with peppers and tomatoes and morning glories twining up pieces of string stuck to the porch. The feeling of late summer, when the sun was stronger in the evenings but the air was cooler. My sisters and I would play in the backyard after dinner. When it was close to the time for our dad to pick us up, mom would call us in and make a pot of coffee. Then she and I would sit on the front porch and drink it together, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Waiting to say goodbye.
It's been a long time since I've laid down on the grass. Guess I just didn't realize that. Because soon I couldn't help thinking that maybe when I opened my eyes, she'd be there. Maybe I was in the yard and could just open my eyes and raise my head and there would be the house, and the morning glories and mom.
But no. All that's left of those times is the memory and the smell and the sound of the world moving on.
I couldn't help but cry. Some days, it just hurts my heart so much to be without her.
But I also think it's good to cry.
I woke up upset...because I was tense, because the Russians had a party last night and it kept me up, and a train near my window jerked to life around 2am and scared me, so I didn't sleep well.
I had wanted to ride my bike this week but kept putting it off. Angry about that, I took it outside and rode it down the length of the train and out of the yard to an apartment complex across the street. For maybe 15-30 minutes I rode up and down the pavement between apartments and just listened to the silence, the breeze, the gears clicking. I tried to think about non-circus things, like what it would be like to live here, what kind of house would I have eventually, things like that.
After a while I decided to take a break and started looking for a spot to do that.
Back in North Carolina, when I wanted to be alone, I went to a graveyard. There wasn't one handy here...only a small public 'park' about as big as a 30-car parking lot with a few trees and benches and a sidewalk wrapping around it. But when I rode my bike under the trees and the wind made the leaves rustle, I wanted to stop. So I parked the bike under a tree and just sat and listened and watched the patterns the leaves and light made on the sidewalk.
After a while I started to calm down, like, inside, where all the trouble is with me these days.
No one was in the park, so I stretched out on the grass and shut my eyes.
The smell of fresh grass, and the feel of it under my hands, and the sound of the leaves, brought back lots of memories.
Of when my mom lived in 'the green and yellow house' with the big backyard, the tiny garden with peppers and tomatoes and morning glories twining up pieces of string stuck to the porch. The feeling of late summer, when the sun was stronger in the evenings but the air was cooler. My sisters and I would play in the backyard after dinner. When it was close to the time for our dad to pick us up, mom would call us in and make a pot of coffee. Then she and I would sit on the front porch and drink it together, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Waiting to say goodbye.
It's been a long time since I've laid down on the grass. Guess I just didn't realize that. Because soon I couldn't help thinking that maybe when I opened my eyes, she'd be there. Maybe I was in the yard and could just open my eyes and raise my head and there would be the house, and the morning glories and mom.
But no. All that's left of those times is the memory and the smell and the sound of the world moving on.
I couldn't help but cry. Some days, it just hurts my heart so much to be without her.
But I also think it's good to cry.