Friday, March 20, 2009

The Soundtrack of My Life

I had another one of those, “Can’t imagine – what is that like?” conversations the other day. You know – the kind you have when someone is trying to relate to experiencing the death of a child.

How does one describe it? It’s acute, it’s blunt, it’s a vapor, it’s a down pour, it’s a tidal wave, and it’s a trickle. Sometimes you float through it and sometimes you drown. Sometimes you move gracefully through the day and other times it comes at you so fast you can’t move quickly enough to dodge what is coming at you. You never know what’s going to trigger a wave of any degree. A song, a word, a verse, a photo, a card, an old cigar box filled with a few memories that sits quietly in the drawer . . . Sometimes you are haunted from a distance, sometimes it’s right in your face. The proximity has no pattern, there is no predicting it, and there is no controlling it.

So last night after Mr. Perfect got home I jumped in the van and zipped to WalMart for a few things. Though the drive is short, I decided to take the opportunity to hog the stereo. Our van is an older model that came with a cassette player, (And those things that will run your ipod through the car stereo via the cassette player? What a joke!) so I grabbed a random cassette (do you even remember what they look like?) and popped it in.

And while I’ve heard this dozens of times, it just hit me. This is exactly how to describe it . . .

It’s OK, it goes its way,
A dying twist - it twists away.
Cuts you up and spits you out,
Keeps you walking but never shouts.

Ah yes, (tongue firmly in cheek) the great philosopher – Peter Murphy.
Who would have thought?

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Please . . . Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers. Eph 4:29