MOVING IN STEREO

Run aground

"For every woman, you will leave an open door.

You find yourself thinking, why can't I have more?

You say there's nothing you can do

You tried your best, but you were only being you.

Oh no

She's gone

Back wherever she came from

You watched

Her go

Your reaction's far too slow.

Run aground

Run aground

Run aground"

Run aground

James

And just like that, she was gone. My father died just a few months later. I stood in the funeral home, empty, void of care. It was like I was only half occupying the body I knew as mine. My spirit or soul or whatever it is that gives us life-spark was on the outside, maybe seeking calmer, more friendly spaces, abandoning what was left.

I was tired of shaking hands, the pats on the back, the forced smiles, and the looks of pity. My feet were killing me from the seldom-worn dress shoes. My legs and knees ached from pacing and standing on the marble-tiled floor. Having to talk and be 'on' for days in a row had given me a crushing migraine that I was doing my best to power through. Outside of positively identifying my father in the hospital morgue, I had not been able to lay eyes on him. It felt childlike, as if somehow, if I did not see it, then maybe, it would all go away, and I would wake up from this nightmare.

I could not reach Sofi after trying several times. I had left a message with her father, who, as it turned out, did get her. She was in Rome. Much to my surprise and even relief, she made it back. I was stunned when she walked into the funeral home. I don't think I have ever been happier to see a friend in all my life.

She had come straight from the airport. She was so sad. She looked younger with no makeup, and her soft brown hair was pulled back with a beautiful antique silver headband that I think my father had given her for her birthday. Tears were streaming down her face, her cheeks turning red from wiping them away. She looked up at me as I pulled her close. All she could do was mouth the words 'I'm so sorry,' for to speak them out loud would have sent her into unrecoverable tears. I kissed her warm forehead and wrapped her in my arms, breathing her in as she took deep breaths in her best effort to be strong for me.

She loved my dad, no question, and he loved her. He was crazy about her. When we lived downtown, he would take her to dinner on those particularly grueling weeks when time together at home was infrequent between our jobs. I thought it was funny. After Mom passed, Dad fended for himself as best he could. But when Sofi came into my life, she also came into my father's life. When I wasn't around, she became his dinner companion. Her sweet attention seemed to bring out the best in him. He was slowly becoming a man I had not seen in years.

One hot-as-hell July afternoon, I was home early, had the night off, and knew Sofi would be home soon. Only she wasn't. She got home much later than usual and was surprised to see me when she walked in. So was my dad.