riddles

Today I heard a song she loved.

It's silly. We used to make fun of her for her unashamed love of Kenny Rogers and Patrick Stewart and drinking Sourpuss out of wine glasses. Now that's all I want to do.

I want to be back in the back seat of her truck, and hear that silly song come on, and laugh while she turns it up and says, "Come on, it's GOOD! Sing along!" And I want to keep driving and driving and driving forever.

If we get out of the truck, it'll all go away. I didn't know that then. I do now.

I don't like these kinds of life-changing experiences. The kinds that make you different, in your heart, than the way you were before. It's not that I don't like change; I just don't like my life without her in it. And I can't stop thinking of all the different ways to live my life, and which one would she think is a good idea? What kinds of advice would she give me now, if I were sitting in her kitchen floor at midnight, the way I used to. The way we all would. Taking turns.

And we are different than we were before, in the most profound way. We didn't ask to be different, did we? I didn't ask to be forced to take giant steps forward, away from the way things were. It's heavy on my heart.

My wisest friend, who loved Kenny Rogers, got out of the truck.

Who's left to drive, now?




life ain't nothing but a funny, funny riddle. -- K.R.