lilo and lido / for my father
October 6th, 2023
i wake up with the sun, as it billows through the shutters and dances across the softest of linens on the bed. i wake up to the sound of chickens, outside the window of the guest room in the backyard where i am staying. i slept the type of sleep i have been in desperate need of for a few moons. i step into the backyard and the air feels cool against my skin. i could almost feel a chill, but the cloudlessness above sends a wave down my spine. i exhale. i am exhaling.
there feels to be more oxygen in my lungs when i breathe in these recent weeks. something, like a hammer, that hung between my ribs has found it’s way to stop swinging. at the very least, it moves in tandem with the drum of my heart.
i take a beat.
one moment.
one small, little sapling of a memory is taking form, and i remind myself that i’ll be okay.
my heart beats in relief.
i am watching the sunset on mission beach. yes, alone, but i promise no longer lonely. maybe an eager loneliness, but not one of despair. it doesn’t feel like october, but i’m not sure what it should feel like, as i lay down a borrowed blanket and wait for the sun to say goodnight to the shore.
there are clouds that look like velvet, and i feel an ache to reach out and touch them with my own hands. they blanket the sky desirously, and i too feel the embrace. the clouds drape across each other like curtains. they might block the peak of the sun as it dips into the horizon, maybe flashing a quick green glimmer to eyes lucky enough to catch it.
soon, the sun will still set.
the sun will dip and i will sit idly by and i will watch and i will wait.
and i will sit and i will watch and i will wait.
my father sat here 44 years ago, watching the same sun set from the beach a mere 20 feet from one of the places he called home. the sands were an amalgamation of different tiny rocks, but the sky remains the same. the clouds have played tricks. the sun has hidden, and the moon has sought emergence.
all of the lifetimes between when he was here, to when i am here; when he and i are both where we are supposed to be in our own moments in time…
he was never a tourist, and he never could be. my father exists everywhere he has ever been, a rare constant in this world with algae memory. if only a person could become a constellation; if only that power could reside inside of me.
the sun is sneaking through the velvet clouds, like the eye of a cave. perhaps it is opening up coyly, if only just for me.
never early, always late, i am. but this sun sets rapidly now. she’s disappearing behind the gray, as a low of colors i can’t recognize explode from the gap in the cloud.
the eye closes. I blink out the tears i didn’t feel welling up, and inhale the brevity of the moments that have been collecting themselves recently; the moments where i am happy to be alive, for the first time in my entire life. the clouds connect back into one. i look to my left and the fog is taking over the beach, and i could flirt with the fear. but instead, there was a moment i paused. i couldn’t find the words, i just
sat still,
while i watched,
as i waited.
‘