Cold Sunshine

sad

 

Drinking tea and cold sunshine, the Facebook memory informed me that it had been five years since Sarah and I had laid little Bethany to rest. As others sat around in the smoking shelter at work, their conversations drifted over my head as I looked down at the words written on that secret morning so long ago. Damp days of fallen leaves separated by a stretch of time that now feels impossible, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite comprehend it. The scars have never healed. I did a good job at hiding them, but they remain open, and always will. While I was working, my father attended his consultation regarding his treatment for cancer. On the walk back home, I was convinced it would be bad news. Six months to live. Major surgery. The removal of his tongue, or maybe half a jaw. The thoughts persisted without fail. Opening the front door, he looked sheepish at the sight of me, and my heart sank in an instant. Only the diagnosis was a good one. No more cancer, and a clean bill of health. He revealed that he’d bought a lucky keyring a few days earlier, and he rubbed it between his fingers as if to suggest it had done a good job. I smiled, because underneath it all, there’s no reason to indicate that it hadn’t. Soaking in a hot bath, I listened to ‘Dancing Queen’ to celebrate. If there’s one song that will cut through mixed emotions, then that’s it. I’ve taken the week off from the novel to inject some life into this tired old body of mine, and It’s slowly working. Nine months solid of writing night after night has left me numb and disjointed, and all the time worried about my father as well. Isolation is a gift, yet there comes a point when the life in my veins begins to fade. I’m fighting for what I believe in, although mostly it’s a fight to simply exist. And yet despite everything, I laugh at the absurdity of it all. Because life is absurd to its core, and sometimes the only thing you can do is marvel at all the small things, those that others try their hardest to deny. Don’t ever become like them. Stay away from the crowd. One day, you’ll eat them for breakfast because they settled for money while you had your eyes only on the stars.

14 replies »

  1. You are a brave, radience, climbing night in patient exhausted tread, you are gentle hope, hiding behind rain clouds, chisseling your way closer in steely faced determination. You are ALREADY that writer, that poet of thought, burning brightly in life’s peripheral, because no true soul could survive the emptiness of being in the center, so like pollinated starlight, you shimmer on, dancing in bathtubs to Abba, and reminding those of us watching you, that your journey began in pain and wonderment, always filled with the inherited voices of our deepest selves, urging us through the wind. And so you shall, my friend, so you shall, endure mightily♡

    • This is one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me, it genuinely is. Most of the time I feel like a failure, but your words have picked me up. The faith you have shown will be repaid. I hope the nights shimmer for you as they do for me, and I hope you keeping on shining for as long as the stars in the sky x

      • I am only able to speak the truth. I recognize in you a deep well of fractured water, the surface belting the depths. Your journey is at times, wrongfully painful as no person should experience but your mercy, Grace and ultimate redemption through the wells of your pain and heart, bring radience and are never ceasing my friend♡

  2. Hugs, stay courageous and shine God’s strength in you. I feel it. :O)) Much Love, light and blessings my dear, Emma

  3. I fucking love Dancing Queen! I’m beyond happy to hear this. It sure is a lovely day to be on this planet. Thank you for sharing and I hope you get some relaxation. You both deserve it!

      • You are certainly welcome. I am well, thank you! Having a profoundly good day myself. Perhaps miracles come in waves 🙂 Either way, I am grateful and glad we’re both in a good place. x

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