contemplation: favorite songs

Sitting in a cafe – the cafe of my-so called life of dates & divorce & goodbyes to dear friends – with good music playing, hot coffee on a sun-filled morning, researching the favorite songs of my three parents, thinking about what this means to me. To who I am and how I am in the world.

An autobiography of sorts, vis-a-vis the hearts of three people I know so well and, yet, know nothing about. And I wonder what OWL will think, when he is 33 and looking at his own life, at the strange fact that me + then-husband = him. What will he make of being soothed through newborn cranky spells by Leonard Cohen records, danced to stillness to the White Album, sung to sleep by Sleater-Kinney’s Duck Song (The Fox). Will he remember dancing on my feet to Saturday night swing music? Or that the 1st song he sang was the theme to JAWS, followed, more appropriately, by Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? Not to mention the album that, in pretty plain language, documented the impending descent of me+then-husband while he waited in darkness for birth.

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friday afternoon gratitudes

This morning I said goodbye, one in a series of farewells as dear friends embark on tremendous journeys. In the past weeks I’ve also gotten home at 9:30 in morning, greeted 4 am by finally closing my eyes, introduced OWL to hot fudge sundaes, and developed a pre-summer Tom’s tanline across my feet.

Today I ate scout mint ice cream in the park after breakfast. I walked home in a snowstorm of purple petals. I thought about my 5 friends who’ve moved away in the past year, and the trailblazers who went before. Struck by the notion of moving without running away. Letting go and dying. Unopened boxes in the closet. What it means to stay.

I cooked rice. Steamed beets and a head of orange cauliflower. Made tea. Listened to Porcella.

And I don’t have much else to say, other than to offer gratitude for the good fortune of friends and for the ease of an unedited Friday afternoon.

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