March 16, 2006 - 11:17 p.m.
Tonight I'm awake in my hotel room thinking strange thoughts. Wishing I could speak with my mother. Her birthday was last week. She would have been 64 years old. Sometimes I want to end it all and see her again. Not because I dislike my life. I've had a very good life. It's the future I'm uncertain of. They gave me a prestigious award for helping out the nation in time of great need. The largest homeland disaster to hit the Gulf coast. It took me by complete surprise. I like these type of unknowns. Must be my month for flying high. Three weeks ago, we took center stage. A singer, clown, musician. I did the playing and background vocals. Both of us modest and humble. All those years of not believing in oneself musically. But finally saying fuck it, taking command of the stage, microphone in hand with no fear. No regrets. A fleeting moment of time compressed into months, years, decades. The creation of a four piece band. All easy-going, carefree spirits. She holds no pretense. No hidden agendas, overt selfishness. I reciprocate in kind. Giving her a DVD copy of our first performance together. It was easy to peel back the layers of her soul; exposed onion. Bright lights. No black skin bruising dark. No foul odor. Tearful eyes. I worry about her recent diagnosis of breast cancer. I prayed for emotional deliverance. Hope. Caring. Gratitude. Creative acceptance. Collaboration. She was placed in my path when I returned home from the storm. A gift from above. Equally moving, equally amazing as the one I received this evening. But won't hold in my hands until I return home. They accepted it for me at a national conference. My boss will present it next month at a staff meeting. Her unicycle rested against the walls of a utility room - garage when I went to visit her last weekend from the hospital. I find myself falling in love with her after each practice and live performance. In the safety of her September marriage. In the safety of not acting on my feelings. A decade younger. I realize her easy-going nature, uncanny openness tugs at my heart strings. Same soul within a different body. Inquisitive mind behind the face of a clown. Praying for benign intervention.
~ Soldier Girl
