Exceptional

Some truths can only be seen through tears

Truths Seen Through Tears

by Theodore McDowell

I long for a lonesome train whistle to nudge me awake long past midnight from a matrix dream. The plaintive call would free me to flee carefree from starched button-down shirts and ride the rails to New Orleans.   I ache for the rare moment with dad, the sweltering afternoon sweat drenched our shirts and we quenched our thirst from a garden hose. I watched dad hammer nails flush with wood as he built a rocker for the front porch. That evening in the golden hour of sunset we rocked to the synchronized creaking of oak.   I tune my car radio to find a golden oldie to make me roll down the window and sing a first awkward kiss into a gypsy wind.   I thrive on the mornings I smell the memory of mom cooking bacon in a black iron skillet.   I confess these desires knowing they resonate with secret chords inside your silent doubts. These yearnings linger just off your peripheral vision.   They will sting you one quiet moment at night or while you stand innocently staring out the kitchen window. You will cry, intuitively knowing some hidden truths and silent suffering can only be seen through tears.

Recognized

#9 January 2022