Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

Sound of a Gong

Collapse
X
 
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • Sound of a Gong

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuCDOH25d-U

    The sound of a pastry pan empty of its contents when it banged on my knee as we returned home from a gathering and I was getting out of the car made us all laugh.
    The thing had to be struck several times just for the fun of it.

    “All children must play!” I smiled up at Rod while he helped me with a hand up while smiling, too.

    “Of course,” was his response.

    What formerly once was a great mystery to me for why a widow was burned along with her husband on his funeral pyre all at once has some meaning/

    All our lives summed up in this one instance, a simple joke, some small happening, even in the midst of the most difficult of times could lighten our struggle, somehow.

    My friend Hazel Gamble, the maker of quilts and comfort through comforters worked along side her husband, Harold. She died first and he died the same day.
    This sort of thing is something noticed by many and will often be talked about years later.

    Brother Mike told me there was a male goose along side the body of his partner who had been killed on the road. Mike said he stopped his truck, went back and carried the poor, dead female off the road while the male waddled along behind him.

    So, these days, this is my struggle., not to think ahead about anything and to simply go about our usual routine. The trash has to be taken out, the dishes done,
    beds made, curtains to be changed out, bits of entertaining but with only a small group. Like that inanimate object that makes a noise when bumped is to
    be about the only differences in our world, although the bong is not to set up an alarm rather only to give a moment of levity.

    Rodney stayed beside me, literally, while I went through the over and over surgeries. Some others marked me as “bad association,” because I couldn’t keep us that former pace. Even some closest to me made comments regarding how lazy I had become. Rodney never did. Even though that was the difficult days the beauty of our children and their happiness kept us hopeful and this gave me life.

    “This is a nice piece of work,” I hear him tell our daughter, Rhonda. “But then every thing your mother does is nice.” My artwork seems to calm my husband. as he glances with interest at what I’m doing, and this is the sound as beautiful to me as the vibrations of the large gong sounding out into the atmosphere much like circles of water as they are formed when a rock is thrown into a pond.

    We lived every moment of our lives together and if there is nothing left, all used up, so be it. There will always be the vibrations, the ripples of what was once there.
Working...
X