Staying awake dreaming of earlier sunsets and trying to shut out the white noise of the economic panorama as it grows more quiet here. The silence is so thick that you can almost see it ebbing through the windows now that the cicadas have fallen to the end of summer.
The Tasting Room sent me a nice collection of miniature wines to review on Outnumbered 3 to 1 so tonight I’m enjoying a 50mL bottle of Lake Chalice – Marlborough Savignon Blanc. It is sweet and crisp like the sun that left hours ago. It also sets in the mood of missing that I’m all too familiar with these days having a husband on third shift.
The bottle of wine is a good listener, far better than the self indulgent random bits of hard rice that are indiscriminately scattered across the lower shelf of the fridge, like dying French soldiers caught in no man’s land during battle. – Life Knocks by Craig Stone
I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore so for some nights I stay up reading Life Knocks by Craig Stone, who probably wonders if I had forgotten all about him and his eBook, but I hadn’t. I think about it a lot. It always has me remembering the time when life knocked for me and I found myself in a whimsical world of beautiful, extraordinary people along the waterlines of Seattle and Southern California. Of days I spent wandering alongside the ocean on private beaches or dancing until the sun rose and fell and rose again.
I lived a strange life once. Caught between the reality of single motherhood and the dream of being someone else behind colored lenses. Things are quieter now, the waters more still than the ones I walked out from. Sometimes I look in the mirror and see how much it aged me and am caught between being comfortable with time and sad that it took so long to find a sense of peace with myself.
The past knocks on my door a lot, or tends to poke me on Facebook when I’m not looking. I turn around and see the faces of those I left behind years ago and only see the shadows looking back at me; the person they imagined I was once. I’m not sure if they remember the reality of what I was, a struggling single mother who took too much time away from what was important or the dancing Sidhe who lived in a mirage of elegant nightlife. I shudder to answer the calling, not knowing who is supposed to answer.
When I”m frightened by it I can conjure up this image of my husband on white linen sheets, the golden sun drawing lines across his face to give an appearance of a roman god. The silence of the morning suffocating until I draw in air and close my eyes as if it would take a negative of the moment. I keep it there when the past aches because I awoke into the future with him on that morning. The morning of our Honeymoon when the happiness settled into our hearts, when I had been able to forget how awfully sad I was once.
I miss him now that he’s off working and I meander the time away with the last remnants of a good wine, stuck in a paradox between then and now. I’ll awake in 7 hours, pressing the refresh button, because everyday is the same; but the opportunity to be a whole person consistently is a pleasant notion. I go to bed as myself and wake up as myself, without the in between of expectations.
So to those that have asked me if I missed my old life I am reminded of my good friend Peter Pan who decided to one day grow up because he realized that Neverland had changed, not because he had grown but because the world has moved on despite him.
Perception is everything.
I suppose I will be writing the review on Life Knocks by Craig Stone tomorrow – maybe it’ll send you down a path of remembering as well and hopefully to a peaceful ending.