A Moment
You know, you think you need closure from something.
You need one moment. One sentence that you can keep. You can wrap it up and take it down like a beloved book and open it up, whenever you want to, just to remind yourself that it's over. Because we forget. We all forget. And we can tell ourselves lies, but it's not lying because we don't feel it it's the truth.
When my house burned down, I knew it was gone. I didn't see it disappear though. The last thing I remember is flames coming from the vent, then the window. I remember walking in my socks over snow. I remember not being able to see anything and my sister yelling. A lot. How did our dog get to us? I remember silence. I remember sitting in an ambulance.
So I had to go back. I had to go back and see it.
And the first time it was still smoldering. There was framework left and smoke rising and appliances. So I had to go back again, because my heart didn't believe it. My brain did. My brain is very smart. Very analytical and cold. I've always been very very separate in things, situations. My brain sees something, my heart sees the same thing and they see very different things. I even sat in the driveway and watched the smoke rise from the ashes. It was so cold. He drove a black subaru and remember wondering if he rented it. And the next time there was nothing. No bones, no structure. My heart understood. But it's just a place, right? Just things.
When my grandmother died. I wasn't there. At the funeral, I even read a pretty great poem. I picked out songs that I felt could speak for me. I sat in the very small room with my aunts and mother when he was talking about the next step. It wasn't enough.
My brain knew. But my heart, my heart was sarcastic and laughing at the absurdity of all of this.
No, it didn't hit home until I was sitting in my bed, flipping the channels, and the show "friends" came on. I sat still for a moment and then looked at the clock. Sure enough it was 7pm.
My heart understood then.
Sometimes it's not a moment though. Sometimes it's many things. A lot of tiny moments that build up until one day you realize... That's it. No big epiphany, no one moment you can re examine over and over and over and over.
A part of you gets angry. A part of me gets angry anyway, because how can something that I feel so strongly about.... end without fanfare? It should be marked. A token of something. It should mean something. One great final.. something. Something that I can hold onto. Look back and say...right there. That's where the road split and that was the road that was taken.
You need one moment. One sentence that you can keep. You can wrap it up and take it down like a beloved book and open it up, whenever you want to, just to remind yourself that it's over. Because we forget. We all forget. And we can tell ourselves lies, but it's not lying because we don't feel it it's the truth.
When my house burned down, I knew it was gone. I didn't see it disappear though. The last thing I remember is flames coming from the vent, then the window. I remember walking in my socks over snow. I remember not being able to see anything and my sister yelling. A lot. How did our dog get to us? I remember silence. I remember sitting in an ambulance.
So I had to go back. I had to go back and see it.
And the first time it was still smoldering. There was framework left and smoke rising and appliances. So I had to go back again, because my heart didn't believe it. My brain did. My brain is very smart. Very analytical and cold. I've always been very very separate in things, situations. My brain sees something, my heart sees the same thing and they see very different things. I even sat in the driveway and watched the smoke rise from the ashes. It was so cold. He drove a black subaru and remember wondering if he rented it. And the next time there was nothing. No bones, no structure. My heart understood. But it's just a place, right? Just things.
When my grandmother died. I wasn't there. At the funeral, I even read a pretty great poem. I picked out songs that I felt could speak for me. I sat in the very small room with my aunts and mother when he was talking about the next step. It wasn't enough.
My brain knew. But my heart, my heart was sarcastic and laughing at the absurdity of all of this.
No, it didn't hit home until I was sitting in my bed, flipping the channels, and the show "friends" came on. I sat still for a moment and then looked at the clock. Sure enough it was 7pm.
My heart understood then.
Sometimes it's not a moment though. Sometimes it's many things. A lot of tiny moments that build up until one day you realize... That's it. No big epiphany, no one moment you can re examine over and over and over and over.
A part of you gets angry. A part of me gets angry anyway, because how can something that I feel so strongly about.... end without fanfare? It should be marked. A token of something. It should mean something. One great final.. something. Something that I can hold onto. Look back and say...right there. That's where the road split and that was the road that was taken.