Sometimes, when my brother is playing guitar, I take a glass of milk and two cookies and I go downstairs. I sit in the room next to his on the pull-out couch. I have my pajamas on and I wrap myself up in the blue blanket my eldest sister gave me for Christmas four years ago. And I listen. Sometimes he plays songs that I know and I sing the words softly to myself so he won't know I'm listening. At other times he plays songs I don't know or songs he wrote and I make up my own words or I just listen and soak the music in, it's like I can feel it seeping into the pores of my skin. Sometimes I think about things, lots of things, difficult things. Sometimes he sings and I smile to myself and enjoy the beauty. Sometimes I'm glad I sit alone and I think that I wouldn't enjoy it as much if I had to share it, but that's a lie. I would like to share it with special people. Sometimes I wish I could sit there forever. I think I could be happy if I could sit alone, cuddled in my blanket, eating cookies, drinking milk, listening to my brother for the rest of my life.
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And then he stops and the silence replaces the music and seeps into the pores of my skin. It makes me feel cold and lonely and that is when I wish someone else was there. Someone special who would hold me and let me know that I'm not alone. Sometimes it seems like I can feel GOD's presence in those moments. But yesterday, it felt like He was gone, gone and not coming back.
2 comments:
That was beautifully written. I almost felt like I was there, listening to him play guitar too. I wish I had a brother that played guitar like that. And I think I know how you feel.
Do you want to do coffee with Catherine and I again soon? We were talking about doing it next week...
Thanks, Carol-Lee
...you can share my brother if you like. But only sometimes.
Although, I don't think it would be quite the same...
Yes, please. That would be so lovely, I can't even express it.
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