Have you ever listened to a song and felt like it was speaking to you? Like it was written just for the moment you were experiencing? Like it was exactly what you needed to hear?
We had our first snow of the season last night and I bundled up and headed to a nearby park for a few miles by myself. I have been running lately with a couple of close friends and it has really been wonderful to share something I enjoy so much. But last night, I looked forward to going alone. The snow, the dusk, the chance to listen to music and somehow come closer to fact of two months without Elise...all these reasons were so compelling.
It was cold, but awesome. Fat, wet flakes fell from above and accumulated slowly on the grass and on the aluminum stands that flanked the soccer fields. I realized the song list on my Ipod Shuffle was my "Push - Energize" list that I put together before Elise was born and that we played while I was in labor. I had chosen songs with a good tempo, ones that inspired me and ones that I thought were funny for the situtation like Lauryn Hill's "When It Hurts So Bad." But I had forgotten about "Virginia Woolf", an Indigo Girls song that I totally love, especially the chorus. The song was written by Emily (one of the Indigo Girls), inspired by Woolf's memoirs, and (I think) speaks to the connection through time and space that she felt regarding the emotional struggles that Woolf experienced.
Of course, this has nothing to do with what I was feeling and yet, it made sense to me anyway.
So I know I'm all right
Life will come and life will go
Still I feel its all right
Cause I just got a letter to my soul
And when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue
Empty pages for the no longer young
The apathy of time laughs in my face
You say, each life has its place
Each life has its place. I sang out loud and ran as tears streamed down my face. My breath caught in my throat but I didn't stop. Somehow the motion and the snow and the beautiful painful cold that filled me when I was able to take breaths were so right. It is at times like these that I feel close to her. I don't feel like she's right next to me all the time or that I can just ask her what I should make for dinner or what I should wear to work that day. I have read that some feel this way, but I don't. And I don't feel that this is a negative thing, it's just how we are (or, how I am). But, every so often, in the confluence of filtered light and surprising emotion and music and life...I feel she is there.
Again, thank you for your love and prayers and words...and thank you for listening.
We had our first snow of the season last night and I bundled up and headed to a nearby park for a few miles by myself. I have been running lately with a couple of close friends and it has really been wonderful to share something I enjoy so much. But last night, I looked forward to going alone. The snow, the dusk, the chance to listen to music and somehow come closer to fact of two months without Elise...all these reasons were so compelling.
It was cold, but awesome. Fat, wet flakes fell from above and accumulated slowly on the grass and on the aluminum stands that flanked the soccer fields. I realized the song list on my Ipod Shuffle was my "Push - Energize" list that I put together before Elise was born and that we played while I was in labor. I had chosen songs with a good tempo, ones that inspired me and ones that I thought were funny for the situtation like Lauryn Hill's "When It Hurts So Bad." But I had forgotten about "Virginia Woolf", an Indigo Girls song that I totally love, especially the chorus. The song was written by Emily (one of the Indigo Girls), inspired by Woolf's memoirs, and (I think) speaks to the connection through time and space that she felt regarding the emotional struggles that Woolf experienced.
Of course, this has nothing to do with what I was feeling and yet, it made sense to me anyway.
So I know I'm all right
Life will come and life will go
Still I feel its all right
Cause I just got a letter to my soul
And when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue
Empty pages for the no longer young
The apathy of time laughs in my face
You say, each life has its place
Each life has its place. I sang out loud and ran as tears streamed down my face. My breath caught in my throat but I didn't stop. Somehow the motion and the snow and the beautiful painful cold that filled me when I was able to take breaths were so right. It is at times like these that I feel close to her. I don't feel like she's right next to me all the time or that I can just ask her what I should make for dinner or what I should wear to work that day. I have read that some feel this way, but I don't. And I don't feel that this is a negative thing, it's just how we are (or, how I am). But, every so often, in the confluence of filtered light and surprising emotion and music and life...I feel she is there.
Again, thank you for your love and prayers and words...and thank you for listening.
