Yesterday was my first day with nothing to do.
I thought I would write. But, I didn’t. I just knew all the words I have been holding in would gush out through my fingers. But, they didn’t.
I sat around the house, made a few phone calls, sent a few text, made a few Facebook posts. Nothing of substance beyond a much needed well deserved vegetative trance.
Then, a song popped into my head. I stopped breathing for just a moment. The rush of feelings accompanied by an overwhelming urge to breathe overcame me. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t exhale. I wanted to hold all those memories in and not share with anyone. I wanted to bathe in them with hopes they would send me back to those memories. Back to those good and bad times. Back to when life still smelled like fresh cut grass and sweet clover. Back to when the headlights of my mother’s car made the snow look like an endless a field of diamonds. I held my breath to hold in the sweetness. To hold in the love.
The song and the woman’s voice transfixed me. The sound of an angel bypassing my ears and speaking to my heart. I stared out the window, pinning myself to the window frame so no air could escape past me into the wind making my love disappear back to the past, never to be smelled, never to be felt again.
I needed to hear the song coming through the speakers on my laptop. So, I allowed myself to take and release sips of air while I searched. My mind was in overdrive trying to hold on to the memories and find the song. I found it on youtube. I took a few more sips of air and let a few more out.
I found a video taped performance not just the song with the words scrolling up the screen, to bore me, clicked the play button and inhaled like I was smoking a freshly lit Newport.
I glanced at the performers hair and clothing. Their attire adding to the aroma. I filled my lungs with the 70’s closed my eyes and exhaled a field of sweet clover.
Summertime in the 70’s as a child flowed out my nostrils. Long car rides at night with my mom. Pringles with my cousin on the porch of my Grandmother’s 7th and Greenbay Ave., home in Milwaukee, I-43 not more than 50 feet away, humming with happy adults coming and going. Living……
I was a child again, still innocent. Bouncing to Antioch Missionary Baptist Church on 20th and Atkinson to fellowship with my entire family. Back to when my biggest worry was if Grandmother would buy me a cheeseburger and fries from McDonalds. Yeast from the bread factory filled the air around the Hillside Projects where my Great Grandmother lived. Grass was green without sod and people loved each other. The song proved this. Nothing so perfect could come from a negative era in history.
I exhaled then inhaled a songbird. I was engulfed with a simpler way of life. I was so innocent. I didn’t know anything about racism. In my world Christian’s didn’t hate. Jim Jones was pure evil still, people eventually found a way to forgive him. Terror was my Mom picking me up from Grandmother’s house before I could inhale more fun. This melody, now playing in my head, heart and mind filled me with love and once again I was innocent. And Alive….And happy.
The song was coming to an end. I wanted to hit repeat but I didn’t. I inhaled deeply once more then let the memories flow into the cool breeze, with complete understanding that all I had to do was push play again and I could go back….
I exhaled “Close To You”, by The Carpenters then sat down and wrote a blog about music….