I'm looking at a photo of my sister laughing with two of our nieces and nephews. She's got a huge grin on her face. No, scratch that, it's a full-fledged smile. Cheesy, if you will, and clearly evidence of some happy moment.
It was difficult, these past few years, to remember this smile of my sister. She learned the art of mastery and self-control, where a front could hide an internal pain or discomfort.
When she came out to see me--when we took a brief trip to Chicago--she only cried once. It was in the car, driving through fields of Midwestern grain, and I asked her how, beneath all of the smiles and laughter, she was really doing. Her voice choked briefly, ever so briefly, and she just said it was so hard to continue and she didn't like her life. She then stopped, caught her breath, and told me she didn't want to think about things anymore. I respected that, changed the subject to music, and we eventually arrived to Chicago. I'd like to imagine that Band of Horses played.
Or perhaps it was Mumford and Sons. I introduced her to these two bands during that trip, and she absolutely loved them.
Anyway, I'm now listening to Adele sing "Someone Like You." My eyes are sore from tears. My throat hurts, and I've accomplished nothing of the things I ought to do. My special fields exam is in a week from tomorrow. My heart hurts. Things taste bitter.
No comments:
Post a Comment