indistinct chatter

Indistinct chatter, it’s what the closed-captioning reads when there are audible but not necessarily decipherable voices in the background.

I went to Central Park the Saturday after you died. After your soul was finally free of the shell of the body that was left. I was relieved, I was numb, I was at a loss, I was hysterical, I was strong, I was stoic, I was vulnerable. I only knew I needed the sun, I needed it to shine down on me, and it wasn’t even a particularly warm day, but it was warm enough. It was busy enough, it was far enough.

Bonsai loves Central Park and her enthusiasm for chasing squirrels and running in the grass is contagious, it’s almost impossible to feel sad watching her. We walked and walked, we passed families, and couples, we passed other dogs, and joggers, the bikers, the horses, and their carriages. The hustle and bustle that is Central Park, but there was plenty of room, between the buskers and the bubble blowers the volleyball players, and the tourists. Central Park seems to happily house us all, we walked to the large fountain and around the lakes, we walked through the mall and under the gaze of the ever-vigilant statues and their pigeon counterparts.

We walked until I found a patch of grass that was almost green despite the fact that it was just barely the first days of spring. We had a view of the water, and the sky was so blue, and as I laid down using my hood to protect my head, I could close my eyes and feel the sun, with its far-stretching beams just faintly reaching my face. It wasn’t a strong sun, not as strong as I would have liked, but it was enough, just barely. I closed my eyes and it was there, indistinct chatter, lots of people, friends, lovers, families, dogs barking, people joking, photos being taken, several different languages being spoken, and snippets of conversations overheard.

And at that moment when I could see the orange of the sun through my eyelids and kept hold on to Bonsai’s leash that’s when I could just about make it out, your laugh as you reunited with Lola, and Dad, you excitingly telling Lola some funny story about something that happened that she missed. How Charlie hung out on the perimeter of the conversation until you noticed him and the scream of delight you yelled out when you could finally embrace him again. It was as if we were at one of our big family parties where there were seven different conversations going on at once, and a group was cooking in the kitchen, and kids were running around playing. I could just about make it out, but the harder I tried to focus on it the more it slipped away. If I let it be, let it happen, I could feel it and almost see it, and hear it, but I couldn’t force it, it’s not for me yet. It’s a moment for those who have passed who watch over us from afar. I love you Ma, I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you. I’m sorry for so many things, but I know you’ve forgotten all the slights, I know you’ve forgiven a teenager’s attitude and any lack of respect or understanding. I know you are at peace, and that you are sending us love, I know you lived a full life, a big life where you triumphed over so many hardships, I know you know how much we love you, what I didn’t know is how much it would hurt when you were gone. How much I would miss you. I love you Ma, I’ll carry you in my heart always.