Reno, NV – “Unmoored & Adrift” – September 22 & 23, 2001
I’m at the Reno airport now — unmoored and adrift. Every ten seconds, a mechanical slot machine screams “WHEEL – O F – FORTUNE.” Kid’s race past luggage, parents reprimand them and blurry voices announce canceled flights and new gates. I’m going home—home to an empty house. I feel sad all over — the kind of sad that comes with flu like body aches.
It started last night, the sadness I mean, while on stage with dad. We were singing “Close Your Eyes,” (our go-to encore) when an overwhelming devastation flooded my body and I started to cry. It was just some gentile welling up at first, but when we got to the chorus, I burst out in a full-fledged sob and couldn’t finish the last line. I felt powerless, destroyed, vulnerable, lost, little and embarrassed for not being able to hold it together.
I thought about the state of America, our president declaring war. I thought about loneliness, about the people in the Twin Towers on 9/11 being lost or gone — their loved ones not knowing which. I thought about the vacuousness of the unknown, the event horizon of fear and depression. I thought about leaving my dad — not knowing when we’d see each other again. It’s always been that way, when we say goodbye It’s “hope I see you soon,” and “I love you,” without necessitating definitive dates for a reunion. But in this time of craziness and instability, I feel our “goodbye” in a way that hurts the breath out of my lungs and evacuates it like a fire alarm.
The tears lodged in my chest and in my heart and in my eyes and solidified there, in a hard-to-remove-oil-stain sort of way. I felt numb as the bus pulled away from the terminal—my dad on it. I waved at it’s blind, mirrored windows until it bent out of sight. The tears didn’t stop there. They haven’t stopped yet, and I wonder if and when they will … I sure do miss you daddy.
Oh Dear Sally…😪
My heart breaks knowing your Dad never took the time to stay until both your hearts mended.
My son’s similar experience , of his father just disappearing creating a new family and dismissing his son forever lingers with unresolved heartache within myself and my son’s unspoken words when we are together.
I’ve given it to the God’s …I have given it to the Universe to help resolve this and bring back the days when , as a family that we found joy and laughter and share a moment now, in our adult years to show that love doesn’t die and is still present amongst those who created our beautiful children.
Maybe it takes many lifetimes to resolve. But it sure would help if we would try to resolve the hurt in this lifetime. Why pass this hurt onto our offspring and DNA.
Oh the spiderweb of life…spinning it’s ever connected delicate silk threads. We must all be connected by a source.
Can we not all be grown up and realize the hurt we have caused and ask for forgiveness and resolution.
We are love…Our spirit of golden threads connect us to those hearts we have touched.
That’s it…I am on a mission to create a meeting of love with my son’s father..who has dtifted ever so faraway…
Thankyou Sally 🤲❤️🤗😪
Hi Sally!
The can camping photo made me smile (I remember when it appeared earlier in this blog)! But then the rest of your entry made me sad. I can’t see my parents again because they passed away. But I can “sing this song when they’re gone”.
All I can say is – give your daddy a call today! Life is short. Dads and daughters have an unbreakable bond, dare I say more special than dads and sons.
-Cindy
Hey Cindy,
My papa and I are on very good terms, then and now. Nothing to worry about my dear. We have a very special adult father-daughter bond.
Oh – I assumed you have a great relationship! Didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Was just suggesting you call him because I can’t call mine anymore (no cell service in heaven)! ❤️