kathy, i'm lost
(debating hope and fear)
The last few nights - years? - I’ve been restless.
One night last week, let’s say Tuesday, I was in bed. It was dark. And quiet. For many hours in a row. I couldn't rest.
I had voices in my head. Rather, I had a single voice in my head. It was saying the same words over and over. For now, the words don't matter.
"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping.
Simon and Garfunkle's "America" is a brilliant song. I can't listen to it without wanting to feel something. It’s come in handy lately as I’ve been working on getting in touch with my feelings.
In high school, my friends would debate (pre-Google) whether Paul told Kathy he was lost though he knew she was sleeping or for he knew she was sleeping.
Thirtysomething years I still appreciate the debate. I’m now having it with my adulting daughter who keeps trying to convince me it doesn’t matter because everybody knows it’s “though”. But I actually think there's an important distinction worth considering.
If he tells her "because" he knows she won't hear it, it’s coming from a place of fear. If he tells her "though" he knows, it’s coming from a place of hope.
I’ve spent a lot of Tuesdays operating out of fear.
But last Tuesday, I told my “Kathy” I was lost. I told her even though she was sleeping. I was hoping she'd hear me. She didn't. And she did.
She picked her head up, looked around a bit and said, "hi". Then she put her head down again and went back to sleep.
I stayed awake. Still restless. But perhaps a little less lost.