I lie on the couch listening to my husband of nearly three decades playing the guitar. I watch his fingers light upon the strings, his eyes closed, his face alive with emotions set free through each note. I fell in love with the music a long time ago.

I was so sad when it ceased. I had worried that childrearing, mortgage and bill paying, endless hours of money-earning and in-laws intruding had killed it.

Then, one day, my son started playing the guitar, picking up songs by ear that my husband had played once upon a time.

And then, my husband started teaching him. Their heads bent together, my son watching his father, my husband watching his son. No arguments or outbursts. No impatience or anger. Music filled my home once again and I watched as son and father found a new harmony together. My heart was full.

And then there’s the music.

I lie on the couch listening as he plays the same song over and over again, this man of mine. Milonga. A tango. My heart begins to melt filling my eyes with tears, as I hope we share this tango long after he plays the last note.

the thoughts the thoughts THE THOUGHTS they’re running spinning racing around your mind and never stop neverstopneverSTOP remember that time in first grade in first grade the girl with the pigtails in first grade remember do you remember i remember you said something and she cried you said sOmeThing and she CriEd remember you hurt her youhurtheryouhurther how could you how could you she remembers she doesn’t forgive you the girl with the pigtails in first grade she hates you shehatesyou OH and today that man you passed in the street remember that man that man who you made eyecontact with the man you passed in the street with the sunglasses the dark sunglasses and you made eyecontact or maybe he wasn’t looking at you but you KNOW he was cause you saw him and you KNEW he saw you or maybe he didn’t but you know he did and why did he the man with the sunglasses look at you why you aren’t you scared just imagine thinkthinkthinkthink about him following you you should have run the man in the street with the sunglasses why whywhywhy what did he want the man in the street the man in the sunglasses you should have run you should have then a couple hours ago like two or three hours ago like around four or five o’clock probably around then just a while ago and your head hurt it was just like bambambambambam BANGing on the inside of your skull and your head god your head you took your medicine did you take your medicine you definitely got out the bottle did you take the medicine two of the blue ones the blue ones not the white ones the bottles look similar though did you take them you did you’re pretty sure but why can’t you remember is that why your head still hurt because you forgot to take them no it was just a headache but headaches don’t just happen for no reason BANGing does not happen to normal people but it’s just a headache my heartbeat in my head poundpoundpoundPOUNDPOUNDPOUND that doesn’t just happen right or does it does it happen remember that guy with the brain tumor the guy with the cancer and the brain tumor he had a headache but it wasn’t a headache wasnotaheadache he had cancer he had a tumor no idea noideanoidea and he died do you remember he DIED do you have a tumor a brain tumor is that what this headache is no you don’t have a tumor it’s not cancer why would you have cancer but it might be a tumor and you might have cancer and you don’t know youdontknow he didn’t know he didn’t know it was a tumor and he DIED maybe this is it maybe you have a tumor maybe you have cancer and you’re gonna die you’re gonna die youregonnadie no that’s crazy you called the doctor remember your doctor you called her and she said it was nothing to worry about nothing to worry about so stop worrying stopworryingSTOPworrying she said you should sleep you should sleep you’re probably just tired just tired and that’s why you have a headache you’re tired you should sleep that’s what she said your doctor she said not to worry so why are you worrying but you’re in bed and you can’t sleep you’re not tired wiDeAwaKe you’re wide awake and you can’t sleep so should you worry you should worry right right because she said you were probably tired but you’re not you’re nottired nottired at ALL and all you can do is think thinkthinkthinkthink and will it ever stop can you just stop thinkthinkthink thinking for a SECOND just stop stop talking stop thinking be quiet stopstopstopSTOP thinking just shut up justshutupjustshutupjustshutup JUST SHUT UP

#newestpiece #anxiety #mentalillness #EvelynDawn

she knew this day would hurt, but she didn't realise how much. She just lay there completely still, she couldn't get up, not today, she felt too numb, too empty. She sighed "happy birthday beautiful girl". She whispered, she hoped that wherever her baby girl was she'd be able to hear her, to know she was always thinking of her, especially today. She'd give anything for just one more moment with her, but that wasn't to be. Instead of trying to fake her way thorough the day she closed her eyes again, at least she could be with her baby girl in her dreams.

My father died. Two days before my son was born. That happens to be exactly 27 years ago today.

I was on bed rest when he died. My mother called my husband and told him to go outside to a pay phone – it was the days before cell phones – but to be surreptitious about it so that I wouldn’t realize anything was going on.

And so, she told him and they cried together, him somewhere in the streets of Philadelphia, her in her home in New York. And they decided not to tell me until after the birth – their logic being that they didn’t want to affect me or the baby in some negative way.

I don’t’ know how I didn’t notice red eyes or a grieving soul. I usually read my husband’s every mood and feeling. But not that day.

Two days later, I slept poorly and assumed it was the greasy burger and fries my husband had cooked for dinner. Did I mention that I had been on bed rest for four months and hadn’t seen my dad since Christmas when he was bursting with excitement for the grandson or granddaughter in my belly? He went on and on about the things they would do together, the most important being fishing. He couldn’t wait to go fishing. Sometimes that is what makes me cry more than just his death: the knowing how excited he was about his first, would be, grandson. And they never met except perhaps in transit as one soul left and another came to me.

So, two days after my husband and mother decided not to tell me, I got sick in the middle of the night. Except I wasn’t sick. I was going into labor. We called the doctor and my mother. Then we called a taxi to take us to the hospital.

A little over five hours later, I gave birth. As I lay there with my beautiful son on my chest, the doctor said, “Oh, by the way, your husband and your mom didn’t want to tell you before, but your dad died on Monday.”

The nurse’s jaw dropped as did that of the midwife and the midwife intern. I suspect I burst into tears, but I really don’t remember.

I guess there would never have been a good moment to tell me. And perhaps in the face of this new life in my arms, it was the best moment really. There is no time to fall apart and grieve when a new little human needs you like you have never been needed before.

And so, you do what you must, and carry on.

A starry sky

But sleepless nights

Shining look

But scary fights

Dying wishes

But worthless heights

So called father

My fate who writes