As I listened to him, the thought came to me of what it would be like to be married to this man and listen to this voice every single day for the rest of your life. Would I find it just as soothing forever? Or would it eventually get to me to listen to a voice that deep and low.
Then that thought took me to a thought about the difference in timbres of voices. I have a very deep, low voice that I can project without much effort. I can be heard in a crowd. My sister Lisa on the other hand, while she has a semi-deep voice (she doesn't sounds like Micky Mouse by any means) has a hard time projecting her voice.
When our dad was alive we would go to see him and my sister Lisa would try to explain things to him, or just tell him a joke or a story or simply ask him a question and he would look at her puzzled…and then look to me to tell him what Lisa was saying. This would drive Lisa crazy! She never knew if he just didn’t hear her, didn’t understand her, or just pretended in order to drive her crazy!
I would tell her it was just the timbre of her voice. Because dad was hard of hearing he couldn't hear the register her voice is in…and I honestly believe that, but she still was unsure.
So then that thought took me to thinking about my dad and a rush of sadness overwhelmed me. I miss him so much and even though I go on through my days… working, eating, shopping, sleeping…all those regular things; something will catch my thoughts and I’ll think about dad and the tears will just flow.
Today was one of those days. I miss him so much. His smile and his jokes, even those times that he would be mad at me or the doctors or the nurses. It does get easier with time but when that wall of sadness hits, it hits hard.
All of this from the sound of one man’s voice simply doing the traffic report. Aren't our minds amazing?
Beautiful post! I believe dad had problems hearing me because I have noticed others hard of hearing don't hear me... Neither to my kids (when I tell them to clean their rooms). Go figure! I also miss dad and now with Robert gone it is especially hard. Anytime I would get down I would always call Robert and we would have a wonderful chat. I miss him and I miss my dad. I am comforted knowing Robert and dad are not alone and that they are keeping each other company.
ReplyDeleteI know sis. I used to drive by Robert's apartment all the time and I just knew he was there and I would always thing, "I should call him" and sometimes I did, most times I didn't...but now how I wish I had! So you can't ever leave me OK...got it!!! Never! :)
DeleteYour post addresses two phenomena, our ability to think sequentially, one vista leading to another, and how grief lurks unseen in the strangest places. This is a beautiful post. Our minds are amazing and your ability to convey that is amazing as well.
ReplyDeleteAnd there you innocently go opening doors to deeper levels of thought and suddenly the grim reaper of happiness, grief, jumps out and seizes your throat. But there are two ways of looking at grief, opposite sides of a coin perhaps. Yes there is the black melancholy, the sad and horrific missing, the yearning for that which you can no longer have, a chat and a hug from your dad. But on the obverse of that grief is the love that you and your sister feel for him. In a way grief is a beautiful emotion, it is only shadow. A shadow of love, but only real things cast shadows. How sad it would be if no one ached and shed a tear for your father? Embrace the grief and know that yes it hurts, but it is love that makes it hurt.
The next time grief jumps out at you, just think to yourself, ahhhh grief, my old friend. We meet yet again...embrace the pain and the love.
I did things backwards as I am apt to do and I read your comment on my "things I touch turning to gold" post first and I laughed...then I came and read this comment which moved me to tears. You are such a poet! And a wise poet at that!
DeleteYou just take my jumble of words and thoughts and write them the way I wish I could have and with the meaning that was in my heart! I have a friend that just lost her mother a couple of days ago and I am going to share your comment with her because I believe it will help her in the days to come when grief jumps out at her and seizes her by the throat.
Gosh darn-it Sextant! Wonderful comment my friend!
And I had to go look up the word "obverse". I thought, wow...here is Sextant making up words like I made up positivity, hahaha...and nope, it is a real word! And a beautiful word used in the context that you did, "the obverse of that grief is the love". Love being the main side of the feeling or the coin! Gee whiz! Beautiful!
DeleteActually Alicia, I think my comment is for grief a little down the road rather than immediately after a loved one has passed away. As you can remember in the first weeks or so, grief doesn't jump out at you and grab you by the throat, it has a constant strangle hold on your throat. It is when you have started to return to "normal" life, that it waits, lurking in the shadows and ready to strike at the most inopportune moments. Right after a person has passed away, there is no way one can welcome back their old "friend" grief, the bastard never leaves.
DeleteAlicia, you do not write in a jumble of words. I rather like your writing, it is down to earth and you don't beat around the bush. You write like you conduct your life...you say what you mean and mean what you say. There is a refreshing clarity about your writing that I admire.
Thank your for your kind words about my comments, and thank for writing such honest blog posts. You are a very genuine human being.
True, in the beginning that old "friend" is there...24/7.
DeleteThank you so much for your kind words on my writing! And I love reading your comments, it may be the only reason I keep blogging...hahaha!
No...seriously, I keep blogging cause I have so much to say and I think I've worn out those around me :)