| Current mood: |  disappointed |
| Current music: | Single File Line // The Agency |
Still tryin hard to beat it down
Something happened to me yesterday that made me think. Not just idly wonder, but really made me think. Lys learned that if you poor salt on a slug, it shrivels up and gets all slimy. She wanted to show me this wonder of nature. So we headed outside and found a slug and performed a little experiment. In the middle of it, one of the kids who was sitting outside for the show approached me and asked me about Lys. I told him the truth, that she was the daughter of the person I'm with. I told her to go ask Bob - one of my crew who handles my guitars - if she could see a guitar, that I'd be in to play for her in a minute. She asked if we'd call Daddy after that. So the young man asked then if I were gay. I confused him sufficiently enough before going inside, but that little incident made me think. It's funny how one simple remark can turn you around.
I miss my husband. I'm too used to seeing his face every day. To feeling his touch and seeing his smile, to hearing his voice whisper those three little words in my ear. It's too cold to sleep without his arms around me.
I know tonight I leave after my show to be in California with him again, but that flight feels two million lifetimes away. I wonder what I've missed since I've left. How many smiles I didn't get to see, how many laughs I didn't get to hear, if there were any tears I couldn't kiss away. How many times did he need me and I just couldn't be there for him, couldn't take him in my arms and tell him it was okay?
And then it came to me. What happens next time? When I have to go weeks at a time without him. Weeks that give only to one day with him. One day.
Will everything double? Triple? Quadruple?
And my children. My beautiful children. What of theirs will I miss? Their first crawl? Their first attempts at their first words? How many cries, laughs, gurgles, will I not be there for? How many times will I miss feeding them? Or even changing a diaper?
How many nights will I lay alone, too cold to sleep and too tired to care I can't? How many seconds will I wish he were at my side? How many shows will there be when I feel like I can't go on that stage, I can't this anymore without him?
How many chances will I miss to tell him that I love him?
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