Friday, August 31, 2012

I Picture Things A Certain Way.

My Dad died the day I moved out of home.

To say it was symbolic would be, I suspect, to labour the point.

Yesterday marked two years exactly since ol' mate Bill died peacefully at home, after dealing (I refuse to succumb to the bullshit of verbs like 'battling') with cancer for the past two years.

Late August always reminds me of these two (kinda, you know) pivotal moments in my life.  The weather is always a bit nicer...a small taste of what's coming.  There's that hint of heat in the wind blowing off the coast.  Everyone seems a bit happier, as if rising from a four month slumber.  So it is that this part of the year reminds me of moving out and dad's death.

My music tastes are pretty seasonal.  This time two years ago I had recently purchased Dinosaur Jr's Green Mind record.  I was listening to it a lot.  I didn't love it, but there was something about the mid-western mellowness that appealed to me.  As is the case with most music, this record has now taken on a nostalgic role, reminding me of those strange days two years ago, where I wandered my new house, building Ikea furniture, thinking about the fact I'd never speak to dad again.

This day two years ago I didn't go to uni.  Dad had been dead for fifteen hours and I decided, as mentioned above, to hang out at home, and build furniture, try and sort out why the power wasn't on, and maybe do a bit of gardening.  The weather was almost identical.  I remember sitting on the porch by myself, perhaps not entirely aware of what was going on, as a warm breeze went through my (still long) hair.  I briefly considered taking up smoking.  I just as quickly dismissed the idea.

From the stereo in the living room, just recently set up, Green Mind was blaring.  I thought about crying, but decided it wouldn't reflect my mood, which was probably closer to confusion than sadness.

I thought about the farce that had been getting the fridge into the kitchen, noting to myself that I should tell dad the story, then remembering that I couldn't.  I found this incredibly frustrating.

The sky was cloudless and the sun was just that little bit warm, you know that feeling in late winter/early spring, where you feel warmth from the sun, and your body kinda shudders.  I realised this moment was going to be remembered for a while.

Today I went for a ride and listened to Green Mind again.  When the record ended, I stopped, and played it again from the beginning.  The weather, like I said, was pretty similar to two years ago.  Maybe a little colder.  Or perhaps I'm just remembering wrong, so keen to create a neat narrative.  It probably doesn't matter.

Riding my bike today, I felt the sun on my legs, and thought about Ikea furniture, no power, and wanting to cry, but not really knowing how in the circumstances.

When the self title track came on, I thought I might cry.  It wasn't sadness I was feeling, but relief.

It's nice to feel happy again.


No comments:

Post a Comment