The Record Player

Time suspended, sleep escapes me. My body, muscles, heart- feel heavy and burdened, not quite right. Not unlike many who have gone before me, and will walk beside me, many who will yet have to walk this road.  My Dad died a week ago tonight, and I feel even more disconnected then I did then. The Funeral is on Saturday, and I want it to go away.  Some of the bonds that were formed with family members are further damaged, while others are miraculously healed. Who would know or believe. Today was the first day in two weeks I have had time to just be, cruise in my car and feel by myself. I am not even sure what it is I was looking for- I just kept looking, searching for something. Some sense of balance.

I am listening to Carole King, with my head phones on. Ray sits beside me  on his computer and all feels right with that. He is my North Star. "Child of Mine," by Carole King is on right now. I have been spending a lot  of time at my mom's house this past week, more time than I have in such along time. I went into my Dad's room. I sat on the chair..... he  slept in a chair the past three or four years because he had to sleep upright to be able to breathe. I looked around his room. It looked so sad. I wanted something to hold onto, a memento, a feeling, a thought. The Quiet was deafening. My heart felt so empty, yearning for something that wasn't. I roamed upstairs, where I spent my twelfth to end of sixteenth year. It wasn't a long time in this house, it is not warm and cozy and welcoming for me. Simply a dwelling I visit.

I searched for something up there.... perhaps a piece of my past that I let me know that I existed.  I rustled through the Christmas Stuff in Joe's old room- found a box with my Grandma (on my Mom's side) stuff. Found a few old pics but it kept my heart yearning. I meandered out to the garage, a true no man's land. I looked at my Dad's old Florist Stuff and felt such pain and exasperation. "Why in the hell did you keep all this crap, Dad. What memory did you leave for me to hold onto?"

I looked over to a bunch of old record albums on the side of the garage. My heart let out a sigh. Music- maybe he was leading me to comfort after all. My brothers old albums, all my favorites. Beatles, James Taylor, Beach Boys, Gordon Lightfoot, Simon and Garfunkel. Those and more were the ones that got me through as a teenager and on. I asked my bro if  I could borrow them, and my heart lifted. Raym said he would pick me up a record player  this week. It has always been the music, writing.

I have been very angry and frustrated at the father I had. I forgave him, which was like peeling an onion over the past couple of weeks at the hospital. The pain of what wasn't .... and now allowing what possibilities in from another dimension are the most difficult. Just letting it be, letting the forgiveness soak in, and let him be a true father from where he is now, without all the baggage. That is where the steel around my heart crumbles.... the little girl comes out, and I suppose the true healing really will take place. I guess honesty is all we really possess.

I look forward to my new record player, my records, and hours of my past love of music and song merging with who I am today..... and just let it all be.