He loaded the CD player. The recently cleaned living room was a cozy space: a sofa, end tables, bookshelves, and television. This was his boyhood friend, recently his girlfriend's place. She was newly divorced. Her two children were with their father for the weekend; he had traveled four hours to share some time.
They were close in high school. She had dated his best friend. The same friend who reunited them through internet chat boxes, each residing in a different state.
In their late twenties, reviewing the decisions of their life thus far. They each dealt with a level of abuse and trauma, mostly unspoken. Each learned that speaking of such matters was more unacceptable than the matters themselves. They were unlearning.
She watched him put the CD in the player, click play, sit on the sofa, and gestured for her to sit with him.
She straddled his lap, allowing their noses to touch. As the music played, she placed her head on his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her, rocking slightly. He sang along with the song and whispered in her ear.
"And, I wonder, Why."
"Why" was it a constant with him. Why had anything unfolded as it had?
The unfolding had brought her back into his life. Both of them were leaning into the comfort of a friendship already established, safe enough to heal wounds that were too sore and too raw to be exposed beyond the comfort of that type of safety net.
Was he singing? She was being held and swaying. Was he really being this vulnerable with her? Beyond her children, this was the most loving and selfless action she had ever experienced.
"And, I wonder, Why."
He wondered if he could finally let himself be happy and feel love.
She wondered if she could allow herself relaxation and a feeling of safety.
Seven years of courtship solidified the YES to all wonderings.
Two years of marriage added a third child to the family.
Three years of marriage added a fourth child.
The CD player was loaded with various tunes and lyrics spanning several genres. The familiar lyrics were heard on occasion, accompanied by a smile. Wondering was replaced with security, love, appreciation, and joy.
Five years of marriage added a cancer diagnosis. Stage 4, non-smoker's lung cancer.
"And, we wonder why."
The music waffled between despair and hope for the next two years, peppered with the occasional angry track.
"And. we wonder why."
Seven years of marriage added a fall.
Deep inside his brain, he felt something pop between the ears. He tried to steady himself, leaving a handprint on the window as proof of the effort. The pop disabled his speech, leaving him unable to ask for help as he fell.
She found him, called for help, made sure the children were somewhere safe, and looked after him.
She loaded the CD player. The recently cleaned living room was cozy, with family photos showing hiking, camping, and teenage activities. Kids' toys littered the floor, and an album of wedding and honeymoon snapshots was displayed.
This was their place. He was an avid gardener, photographer, computer technician, and incredibly proud father of four. He always strived to be more than his father and stepfather were for him.
She was a middle school teacher, a student of the nature of the Universe, a fierce protector of her family, and a proud parent of four. She always strived to exercise her demons to be the best mother.
In their early forties, they reviewed decisions that have led to this moment.
He watched her put the CD in the player, and a familiar tune filled the air.
Tears in their eyes; she held him, and they swayed.
"And, I wonder why."
12 years since he has gone. The day the lyrics came true.
"Suddenly, I knew that you'd have to go
Your world was not mine; your eyes told me so
Yet, it was there I felt the crossroads of time
And I wondered why."
12 years of wondering why.
12 years brought a change of careers.
12 years of putting the children first.
12 years of her finding security inside herself.
Two children are now grown, with families.
Two children, now teens, are spreading their wings and will soon fly.
One grandbaby, the light in any day.
She says, "Computer, play the Old Ways by Loreena McKennit." She sits comfortably in the living room in an oversized chair with a crochet blanket. The cooler air is coming as Halloween draws near. There are more books than ever before, signs of teen life, and the writing she is practicing. Meditation beads are within reach, and the stained glass lamp he made her so many years ago glowing softly joins the sound of purring cats that share the space.
She hears "Shuffling, The Old Ways, and similar tunes."
She listens, allowing the feeling of memories to flow through her body.
A selection, new to her ears, felt with a tear and a smile:
"There's only one answer that matters
Even if your heart has been shattered
Whatever you want, whatever you are after
Love is still the answer" (song by Jason Mraz)
And she no longer wonders why.
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