 Highs & Lowest Lows |
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I am hanging out with Zuko right now wearing a towel on my head, blue striped men's pajama pants, and a t-shirt I tie-dyed in pastel colors with a big purple mushroom on it at camp when I was seventeen years old. I am chewing on the wooden stick of a fudge pop and shuffling around the house nervously. Zuko just wants a bite of leftover pork chop. Daisy is foraging through the yard in the dark, which is her favorite thing to do. The cats are sound asleep, of course, and will inevitably wake up at three a.m. I had the day off today. I voted and there were only a few people in line both in front of and behind me, but since I've never even laid eyes on another person in any previous voting trips, I took that as a good sign. I went to Target and was overcome with an overwhelming urge to buy out the Shabby Chic bedding aisle, but I refrained and bought a bunch of cards instead. Target's card selection has vastly improved lately. I got a caramel frappuccino. My mother invited me to join her at noon mass for All Souls Day and what was I going to do, say I was too busy on my day off? No. So I went, and it was fine. On the way to mass, I was driving through the rain and fumbling through some unlabeled CDs to try and sort through some songs for a mix I'm making for the lovely Grace. And I popped one in, and "The Luckiest" came on. And it only took a few moments of those opening piano notes for me to be brought to tears. It was a mix that I made in 2002. And I was sad because that song meant so much to me, to us, and I hadn't heard it years. And I was sad because I knew that if I have the CD, then he doesn't. That it's not tucked away somewhere in the bottom of some box, if such a box hasn't long since been thrown away. And I was sad and surprised by the hotness of tears and how they flew out so suddenly and how strange it was to have a truly visceral reaction to a song. It amazes me how uncontrollable emotions sometimes are and how gutwrenchingly we can hold onto how a certain song once made us feel, how deeply it can still resonates inside of us after so much time has gone by. It's a beautiful song, and I think as I wiped away my brief but torrential onslaught of tears and walked into church, I was able to hold onto that. That no matter how sad listening to it made me, it's still such a beautiful song. And it did mean a lot to me, and to him, and it will always be special to me for that reason. I do not think that I will ever listen to that song again. I really think I might have to take a xanax to make it through this night. I am so scared to get my hopes up. My dad emailed me a two-page treatise last night, some reflections on election eve, in which he wrote intelligently and frankly about why he voted for Bush. And even though I disagree with him, I was relieved that someone actually gave me some goddamn reasons, because lately I've just been walking around clutching my head and mumbling, "Why would anyone in his or her right mind want to vote for him? Whyyyyyyyyyyy ..." My respect for my parents is infinite, and no election will ever change that, and I was pleased that none of his reasons was simply listed as "TERRORISTS" or "THE LORD!" 
© Copyright 2004 elb |
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