It must have been...about this time of year. The brisk cool days leading into fall. The leaves parachuting from the trees effortlessly. The breadth leaving my mouth as my body numbingly glides down the sidewalk. The ache in my knees becoming familiar. Diffferent from her aches and pains. Different from the heaviness in her heart.
She must have run...down these same streets. In this same town. She said it was to lose the weight she had recently gained. Or maybe it was to run away. For a moment. From the three young boys left at home. Or possibley the never ending list of tasks that needed to be accomplished. I run for health....she ran for sanity.
She must have hoped...that these jogs would never end. Dreading the finish line. Just one more moment of silence. The absence of thought....must have been such a relief. And yet all I do is think. To forget the physicality.
She must have been...about my age. And miserable. And scared. And lonely. That year.
The year my father died.
"The absence of thought...it must have been such a relief". i used to feel that way when i rode. Just canter faster and faster and faster, no thoughts allowed, who cares if there's some danger involved, just to "get away" even for a minute or two. Another excellent story. i mean, i didn't totally understand it all, but maybe that's what it is all about...each making their own interpetation(sp?). Do you want that sometimes?
ReplyDeletei am sorry about your dad.