Blood

Sunday, May 4, 2014

The Windshield

The other day I let my mind wander in a different direction.  I was riding in the backseat of the car next to your brother.  The trees moving to the left of me set the scene and my thoughts followed.  They weren't what was expected even though they are there every time I drive myself home from work.  I thought about what was behind them and who had been in them and how I would never know.  I thought about how many things I would never know and how many people I would never know.  I thought about the people that I do know and how out of those people there are only a very few that I want to know everything about, and some of those I will never know enough about.  I wondered at how many people want to know everything about me.  I felt sad then because I don't feel that it is very many.  It used to be more I think.  But that number changed I think.  I wondered at why some people have to leave our lives when they are the very people we want to be with us the most.  And how others are there all the time and we feel nothing.  I wished that people would let the others in their lives know the truth sooner before time takes away their chances.  It makes me sad when chances are missed.  It makes me even sadder when people don't even realize that great friendships are missed out on because the timing is off.  I think we love because we have to.
The longer I watched the trees the farther my thoughts ventured out.  I let them search for things that weren't really there.  A sound came to me then.  A humming, a buzzing, a sound of the Earth.  It was not the car moving on the road.  It was just for me.  No one else in the car heard it or would understand that it was there.  I think it may have been a memory surfacing.  My Grandmother used to hum all the time when she was alive.  I feel like I drew that up from deep within.  I feel like she and I knew that I was in urgent need of comforting at that moment.  I was on the verge of tears and as I wondered at the line of trees and let the sounds of my childhood in, I let just one tear fall.  Just one, so that no one else knew.  Just one, to let myself know that I could feel that day.  That I was alive because something so everyday could touch my soul in such a way.  Looking out the car window as things move quickly by has always been something that I draw upon in times of reflection, in times of solitude.  I feel like the most personal truths can be found as the rain drops seek out their wind-blasted paths across the edge of the windshield when driving through a thunderstorm.  I've watched those drops a thousand times and they never end up going in the direction I think they will.  They come together, they dance, they move apart, they fall off the glass, they stop and dry up.  They are pushed by their circumstance, they are left with their will.  They do what is needed for the universe to be complete no matter who notices, no matter who is touched by their existence.  I try to notice the little things, so that the little things might know that they have a purpose.  As we drove on, I noticed your brother looking out his window.  He saw an airplane and made his little hand sign for it.  I am happy that he watches for things too.  I am happy that I hear him and your sister hum to themselves from time to time.  I am happy that sometimes the little things are the most important things we are left with.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you

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