“Untitled 5″

“Untitled 5″ 

Cool and unphased, he sits at the table. It was one of those days that’s not really a day. Overcast, windy, and humid. But cold…and leaves were everywhere. The only thing that’s been playing in his head from the moment he woke up was Untitled 5. For some reason he can’t remember how it started, but still a faint sequence of notes sits there with him. He can make out the subtle nuances and turns, the strings over guitar, the whine….but no melody. And he’s lost the pitch.

He remembers when he was a boy and he would sit on the front step. He would wait for his cousin, and then they would ride bikes until dusk when the dogs came out. He remembers feeling small. He would make visits with Dad to the post office, and ride with him out to the farm. Every day was an adventure. He remembers getting taller. Walking up the school steps for the first time. He played football like his Dad. He remembers graduating from college.

Ah, and his wedding day. And the day each of his children was born. He remembers their small hands, their mother’s eyes. And for a moment, it was like he had, for the first time, felt alive. “There’s nothing like it,” he would say. He remembers Dad holding his little girls in one hand. He remembers his first house. He remembers the first time it snowed on Christmas. He remembers…..

And he sits. He wants Untitled 5 to be played at his funeral someday.