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Around 7:15pm I rolled into VIP parking in the back of my new best friends leather interiored car.
By 7:30 we’d settled ourselves in a sky box, complete with locked mini bar.
By 8:10, the vibrations coursing through my ribcage were so strong I
thought I might puke if I listened too hard.
So I closed my eyes,
leaned back in my seat and listened with my body. Eventually, my heart
stopped trying to beat its own rhythm and synced with the heavy
vibrations. The queasiness passed. Now I could even feel the
vibrations in my finger tips, and it wasn’t unpleasant.
Sometime around 9, I guess, they struck
up one of my favorites. Bobbing my head and shaking my knees in a seat
wasn’t cutting it. Our sky box was occupied only by the three of us
and an older couple who didn’t look like they were planning on leaving
their seats anytime soon. So I hopped over the back rows to the bar
portion of the box, pushed aside the monotone furniture and let my
limbs loose.
I am not a subtle dancer. I am all elbows and knees, hips twisting,
feet stamping, hands twirling. My heart vibrated to 80s rock and it
pulsed out through my spine, hammered the floor and sliced the air.
By the end of this single song, I thought I might die of exhaustion. It was good.
By 11:30ish, we’d finally found a bar with an open kitchen. Blues
sung by a skinny old man in a black news cap, grinning foolishly. He
oozed love.
By 12:30ish, my new best friend had pulled away in his fancy car and the two of us left were tangled up on the couch.
Now, dear reader, close your eyes and picture another kind of
vibration. For one such as myself who will embrace the vibrations of
music without hesitation and fly, body against body is an entirely
different story. It is, in my lucid memories at least, accompanied by
trepidation, nerves, shyness, and even fear. Not so on this night.
At 9:05am I pulled into my drive. Five minutes late. I walked in
my backdoor to discover a teary eyed child. She’d expected me the
moment she entered our home and instead discovered emptiness. It
momentarily broke her heart. Fortunately, toddlers forgive easily. It
wasn’t long before we’d settled on the couch for an apologetic nurse.
This is when I looked into my live-out hubby’s face for the first
time. His cheek twitched in agitation. We talked lightly of our
child’s previous night and day. He shared her funny and delightful,
successful and challenging moments. And all the while, I knew I
smelled of something musky. My heart did not beat in time to my own
little home; it was still letting off tremulous vibrations of triumph,
nostalgia, comfort, and joy. It vibrated of moments he could not
possibly share. And his cheek twitched in agitation as I smiled.
[this post has also been published on my personal blog single mom with tiny tot]
