A Radio Is On
Read in the police log of the Carlisle Mosquito the day I found out I have lung and bone cancer: Police responded to report that woman heard music coming from in the house. Police investigated: the radio was on.
We laughed. Imagining the embarrassment of the woman at the results of the investigation. Quietly grateful, while a documentary about Syria flickered on the screen, that our town's police log contains such larks of calls.
But as I turn over in my head the various symptoms and moments of pain and exhaustion I weathered through in the last six months--has it been a year? it's a torturous game to play (when did that aching start?)--I think, the radio was on. I have to learn to listen to this music and identify where it is coming from, what the lyrics signify.
The radio is on, my lovely friends and dearest dearest my heart could break family. I hope you'll listen with me.
Much love,
Trace
We laughed. Imagining the embarrassment of the woman at the results of the investigation. Quietly grateful, while a documentary about Syria flickered on the screen, that our town's police log contains such larks of calls.
But as I turn over in my head the various symptoms and moments of pain and exhaustion I weathered through in the last six months--has it been a year? it's a torturous game to play (when did that aching start?)--I think, the radio was on. I have to learn to listen to this music and identify where it is coming from, what the lyrics signify.
The radio is on, my lovely friends and dearest dearest my heart could break family. I hope you'll listen with me.
Much love,
Trace
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