“As time slowly passes
But the passage of time is no rail passage
For a train bound for nowhere”
Time heals all wounds. Failure to clear away scabs and allow for total healing will contribute in potential scarring, deeper wounds, and yes, amputation! That is exactly what was feeling like, amputation. The problem was it was unclear what was being amputated. Was it removal from all that she knew? Or was it some ghost limb that held on from the past? Either way the pain was no phantom pain. It was real and it was deep. Remember when you were a kid and someone would say, “listen” you would lean in, strain, try real hard to hear, and answer, “what, what do I hear?” “That noise, listen…” Eventually you would be convinced you heard it, you would be certain you did. Well, this was no different. Did she really hear, “I love you?” Or it was what she was told to listen for?
She didn’t really sleep, and there were only a couple of hours of darkness left when she finally did fall asleep. The sound of a train woke her up. It startled her. She never did live near a train, but at times could hear a low rumble and toot of a horn from the distance. The nearest train as at least a 10 blocks from her girlhood home, if the wind was blowing from the west it would pick it up and carry it through the old wood screens in her house. In Chicago there was the occasional rumble and announcement of the “EL” that could hear at certain times, mostly wind related. This blast of a train horn was no wind related incident; it was within feet of the bedroom window. It was there and blaring. Her heart scrambled for a normal rhythm as she was waking from a not enough sleep fog.
“Good Morning, did you sleep well?” Her voice was always softest in the morning, like a mother trying to slowly wake her sleeping infant. She developed that way after the birth of her first daughter. To be back there in her little 2 bedroom apartment with nothing but dreams before her, that is what she really wanted. Wanted more than him, than money, than success, she just wanted to have her babies back. She always disliked that brisk, loud talking of morning. It was too much like a train blaring a warning at a dangerous small town crossing. Soft, slow, peace that is the way a day should start, peacefully.
He just smiled, then announced that he failed to buy any milk for the coffee and if she wanted some she would probably have to walk to the little corner super mart. She just smiled, “it figures” she thought to herself. No, that is okay, I will try to drink it black. Something told her she was going to need it.
“So what are we going to do today?” He just shrugged, and answered…”it is my niece’s birthday, they are all gathering at Mom’s for a little cake. We can go if you want.”
“Do you want to go, I am fine with whatever you choose.” She was feeling a little strange as she did not know what had been told to the family regarding their strained couple of months.
“Well, it might be a little too soon, and well,” “Hey, don’t worry about it, there will be time.”
The awkwardness grew what now? Could the passage of time equal the cost of a rail passage? “Where is that CD you brought, I want to hear that song.” “Which one?” she asked. “The Stevie Wonder one, I Can’t Imagine Love Without You.”
“Oh…”
