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this is the day

This is the day. The epic banging downstairs has subsided, appearing randomly at no earlier that 6 at night when it does. There is no good explanation for why I restrung the old guitar today, and then the new one. I am almost drunk on the smell of their cases, like a museum of good intentions - here are scraps of paper with old lyrics on them, a spare cable, a phone number from a show three years ago. I have been writing these songs for over a year now, and today is the day the good microphone went on a stand.

That is how things happen - when you least expect them.

It is a fairly terrifying moment.

I think we all like to say "we need to get out of our comfort zones" which mostly means something like bungee jumping, or getting a new haircut. The idea of singing the confessions of a bunch of imaginary people feels like walking a tightrope with no net. Seeing it done well does not give me any false confidence. It just makes me respect those brave souls that shoulder a guitar …

tonight



She is not here. Just her toys frozen in mid-play. Dolls asleep in makeshift beds. Lego worlds hibernating, waiting for E to return. I have her six days a week these days, a huge spread of time. We make music together, learn the English alphabet, enjoy a galaxy of overlapped moments. I answer a thousand questions a day now - like what the soul is, what air looks like, where babies come from.

On the one day she is not here, the silence is deep.

Five minutes away and I miss her already, the snow still wet on my coat from bringing her downstairs. I find a half-eaten chocolate on my chair. She left it for me.

Comments

Sweet Baby Voice..
Love.
Ella said…
Your lovely daughter has a beautiful voice. You are doing a great job raising her. Take it from a mother who has raised 3 outstanding children. My heart goes out to you.
Omgrrrl said…
So, obviously you were able to answer the question about what a Soul Is.
Rabbit blogger said…
the explanation of what and where the soul is was much easier than where babies come from. besides, E says babies come from tiny stars before they are inside mothers and it was hard to revise that.

we go to solfeggio classes at a very serious music school two times a week. she struggles there for a number of reasons. her mind works differently than this rote memorization stuff (big surprise). ironic she can still sing her little heart out.

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