[Note: this might be a bit overdramatic, but it is how I feel. For what that’s worth. – Owen]
I miss the days of music with my daughter;
She’s older now, and put all that away –
I miss the sound of cello and piano;
I missed it back when there was a ‘last day’ —
A last day that we’d ever play together.
She says we will again, but then delays,
As months turn into years, and there’s no music –
There’s only one of two still there who plays.
To work so hard to get so very good,
Then carelessly leave all of that behind;
To leave behind the good in us for nothing,
And let the years spin by until we find
That when we’re ready duets to resume
The other half of them is in
Their tomb
I would call this just the right amount and totally appropriate amount of dramatic … to have little droplets forming at the corners of both my eyes.
The temptation to throw away good things is very great in all of us, I guess. Music is one gift I never gave up, and it probably saved my life.
I just miss sharing it with her.
I don’t know that I agree with you.
I think the temptation to hold onto things that no longer serve us–or anyone–is stronger.
“I remember the happy times” or “I remember all the good he did” is what runs through our minds when thinking of someone who’s worked repeated, enduring hurts. “It’s OK to keep going on.”
So that, when someone feels safe from walking away from something you used to share … well, that’s a sign of having done something right. Of having shown that, though you cherish something, you will not force someone else to cherish it long after they are ready to walk away.
You are right, of course.
Beautiful, Owen… not overly dramatic at all. I am sure those were precious moments with your daughter and you should remember them and what you’ve lost 🙂
lovely blog! hope to connect with you, oh my blog is https://impossiblecellist.wordpress.com/