the locked door between us

I finally see the dawn arrivin'
I see beyond the road I'm drivin'

It's a bright horizon and I'm awakin' now
Oh I see myself in a brand new way
The sun is shinin'
The clouds are breakin'
'Cause I can't lose now, there's no game to play

I can tell
There's no more time left to criticize
I've seen what I could not recognize
Everything in my life was leading me on
But I can be strong, oh yes i can

-"don't look back", boston


--

i arrived at 3pm.

flushed, and feeling too hot from driving toward the sun for over an hour, i walked into the elevator and hit the button for the floor.

my heart was racing as if i was in a marathon.

the feeling of worry, over losing my daughter intensifies, as i think about it in a rushed moment, i realize i worry about losing her, again and again. and this time to a new area. what if she bolts? that's the worry.

she won't, i tell myself.

--

the door opened.

i walked out and entered the locked hallway.

i walked toward the locked doors with slivers of windows--and there she was.

we laughed.

--

" can you hear me?", i said through the little window.

smiling, and standing with a bead necklace around her neck and a new jacket on, she beamed.

i had rang the doorbell and it was shift change so there was a break in time where someone heard it to come unlock the door to let me into the ward.

"i'm so glad to see you, are you ready to go out?"

more smiling.

---

my daughter and i went out to a late lunch, and shopped at the dollar store. she hasn't said a word to me for about a week.

i bought her a pink plastic basket for items to sit on her side table in her room. she picked out a little plastic horse. i wrote her name with a permanent marker on the basket, under, over, sideways and everywhere onto the basket.

all the while talking and telling her many things, such as "i'm proud of you".

--

ON the way home my car dashboard rolled on

149,000 miles


when this started a decade ago, the car was a "teen car".

i had the luxury of having two vehicles back then, and now i drive the oh-so-loved-ghetto car as we call it. 100,000 miles on the meter driven by me to various hospitals, etc. to be with my daughter, have meetings... all of it.

karma to the car. seriously.

--

it sounds like a ghetto car. (that's when i add oil!)

the jeep is a loud, oil-drinking junker with a hole in the muffler.

but, i love the car. today it took me back in time when the 'boston' song was on the radio during the homestretch---the last .05/ 120+miles toward home, through the wooded area. i leaned forward, and dialed the sound knob higher. same dashboard that lit on fire and flooded the car with hot, white smoke and nearly melted my left leg a few years ago, at the canadian border.
---

i remember.

all of my life.

---


AS i was driving home

i think to myself, "it's as if there is always a locked door between us".

epiphany at best, or "duh" moment.

i see her face shining through the sliver of a window in my mind and focus on that.


there is always a smile between us.

-------



i finally see the beyond the road i'm drivin'.

--

2007

According to this news report, Brad was found dead with a note paper-clipped to his shirt.

"Mr. Brad Delp.

J'ai une ame solitaire.

I am a lonely soul."

"I take complete and sole responsibility for my present situation.

I have lost my desire to live," he wrote.

The note also included instructions on how to contact his fiancee: "Unfortunately she is totally unaware of what I have done."

Brad Delp suicide