This morning, I was sitting on my couch listening to music while drinking my coffee. This in itself is unusual, as I generally prefer silence before putting on my music and headphones for my daily walk. But something compelled me to break the silence this morning.
I was listening to a station that plays a great mix of the music I listened to as a teen. This is the music that most triggers emotional responses in me. A single song can make me cry or laugh in a way no other music can.
The station was playing a song that I had grown to dislike because it had been overplayed in its heydey. But having not heard it in over a decade I was able to listen to it with fresh ears. And it brought me to tears. Not because the song is sad. It really isn’t. But I cried because it reminded me of my teenage years when, frankly, I took my father for granted.
Suddenly, I wanted more than anything to go back in time and hang out with my father. I wanted to go bike riding or to a museum or even just ride the subway with him. It didn’t matter, I was just really missing his presence. And not in the weakened state of his last few years. I wanted the young, healthy and active version of him that I grew up with. When he was close to the age I am now. Before life and time took their toll on him.
Usually sadness drains me. But not this time. This time it pushed me out the door to walk off my grief. Which made me wonder if it is my grief that is fueling my daily walks. Because I have no other explanation for how I have gotten myself out of the door every day in June. Or for how I have walked almost 200 miles since April.