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I sighed, leaning into the island countertop and rubbing my face. “Thank you, Pear Bear.” I managed a smile.
“You sound sad again. You wanna just come?”
I laughed. “Nah. Daddy’s just tired. I’m gonna warm up this plate Granny made me and eat.”
“Okay. Daddy, after that, do something to make yourself feel better.”
I thought I was doing that these past few days. Now, I realized the thing about longing was the impatient anticipation before was less painful than the bereavement after.
“I’mma do that, baby girl. You all packed up for school tomorrow?”
“Yup.”
“Don’t forget to brush your teeth. And when you pray tonight, be sure to pray for daddy’s heart and mind. Okay?”
“Why?”
“Because they never get along.”
“Oh.” Her eight-year-old mind sounded all confused. “Okay.” There was a brief pause before she offered, “Night Daddy.”
“Night, my love.”
When we ended the call, I took another breath and gazed around my kitchen. It was cleaned and organized and…empty. At this rate, I should pay Krista to buy a bigger home with her man, and let Elia stay with me full-time. This lonely shit at my age wasn’t for me.
After washing my hands, I had dinner at the table in the kitchen. Not really tasting the food as I downed it, my heart grew anxious for a purge. In between feeding my face, my fingers tapped away at invisible keys.
Before I knew it, I was too anxious to make it down to the basement where I had a well-functioning studio. Settling at the grand piano in my living room met my urgent need. I began to finger through a few notes. Not really measuring time, I stayed at it until a melody occurred. A while later, a harmony was born, and I began to feel intoxicated.
“My tears…
My tears.” I sang, seeking more.
It took a few minutes before I continued with, “Blessed are those who mourn…
For our tears fall on fertile soil.
All my hopes and dreams will one day be released.
One day they’ll swell your belly.
Soon, oh so soon, this debilitating pain will cease.
And just like my formal longing,
My love for you will transcend the years.
Oh, my tears,
Will water my fears.
No longer will I be torn,
Because blessed are those who mourn.”
“You’re sure?”
I peered into the screen on the small table in a private room of theNC Statelibrary. It was where I took my therapy calls viaZoom. The school was within walking distance of my job and shared a partnership, allowing me access to the campus. Here, I had the privacy needed for honest and personal conversations.
