Suspended in Time

Seven weeks today.

I’ve had a song that’s been rattling around in my head as an ear-worm since before the holidays. I heard it on her iPod while I was cleaning the house up.  It’s from Xanadu, a ridiculously campy musical based on a fairly terrible movie musical. She really loved that show, it was great stupid fun. We saw it three times.

The song is “Suspended in Time”. Somehow, Kerry Butler managed to sell this song even as she was using an intentionally bad Australian accent. It was probably my favorite number in the show. Here’s the chorus:
BarbWaterfall_VertCrop

…keep me suspended in time with you
Don’t let this moment die
I get a feeling when I’m with you
None of the rules apply
But I know for certain
Goodbye is a crime
So love if you need me
Suspend me in time

So, yeah, right now that’s going to resonate with a whole lot of implications lyricist John Farrar never intended.

What can you give back to a woman who spent every single day of her adult life loving you? Remembering seems like the only gift left. It’s so tempting to just try to freeze time right now, to hold her there, and not let her go. There is a fear that if you look away, the next time you turn back, the memory will be faded.

If you freeze a waterfall, it’s not a waterfall anymore, it’s an ice sculpture.  The only truly frozen moment is the moment of death, and that’s the moment we want to remember least.

Those beautiful still moments we remember aren’t completely still. They are the times when we pause our own motion, to examine closely the subtle changes in a constantly moving world. We become silent, not to hear nothing, but to hear the quiet things we miss when we are making too much noise. The world still moves around us. The real beauty is in the gentle sparkle of the stream, the light breeze on your cheek, the sound of you love’s breath, that one loose hair glinting in the sun as it catches the breeze. No, those moments aren’t frozen at all.

God, that was a pretty spot. 

Constant backwards glances, a loving gaze at a photo maybe held a bit too long, but never a frozen stare. Then you have to force yourself to turn back to the path ahead, taking another step forward before you get frozen here yourself.

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One Response to Suspended in Time

  1. Pingback: Compression Artifacts | An Unwecome Journey

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