Visits

Thursday, March 7, 2019

The End of Something

I have felt especially troubled lately. I have supposed that it was the product of the combination of the flu and the house owner's sudden decision not to honor our two-year agreement and the rush of having to find a new place and hassle of getting everything arranged and packed. 

But it's more than that, as I realized this morning. 

Leaving this house is like closing a door that had hitherto remained at least slightly open. It is the end of something, the final stage prop in the history that brought me here and sustained me here. Here is where we were last together as a family. Louis. Sasha. Me. Us.  And though it was only I who remained this last year, it was still I and the house, the home, the history. Like a soul which stays in a body, so was I. Like breath, like a heartbeat, faint yet present. Something. A pulse. 

Here forth, there will be nothing that contained us together. Nothing that knew our presence, our scent, echoed back the sound we made. 

Old roads, old hopes, old struggles and strivings have led not to paradise but to a deserted island, and ended in a tale full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. 

That's one way to hear the story. 

There are, thank God, other ways as well. 

No comments: