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Before the clock hits 9 o’clock, I hit the bed and close my eyes.
I hug my stuffed pink lamb close to my chest. I know I’m too old for this. But hey, I’m just being me.
In my ears, Silent Night is sung by Bon Jovi. It’s the one they performed live in Cincinnati, 1987. I had this cassette tape when I was a high school kid. I listened to this track so much that it got damaged before I was even out of high school. I had to throw it away. It was a tough goodbye. But thank God for this Youtube era.
Life has improved.
In so many ways.
I feel especially blessed to be able to listen to this song as I try to fall asleep, though it reminds me of many unfortunate events.
Many lovers are realizing their love has died tonight. Many are saying their bitter goodbyes, forced by the turn of events, misled by some imprudent choices. Tonight, many will be left lonely. Again.
And tomorrow, many will move on and start anew. They won’t wait 5 years to start again like I did.
A pink lamb won’t fill in the void left in their hearts by the love long gone. I know it won’t do the trick. I’m not hugging the pink lamb because I miss those snuggly nights with my husband when I was happily married. I’m only feeding my childhood that was left unfulfilled.
Did I ever grow up?
Or am I just an illusion of aging?
I live in the shadow of this foreign woman the ID card identifies as a 32 year old being. I have long, straight black hair and occasional sad eyes, and a big smile on my face trying my best to be cheery. But inside, I’m only a little child.
I am just a little girl who likes to roam around the green fields. I like holding someone’s strong hand that guides me while I walk. I like running in the rain screaming and shouting my unbridled joy. And I like to sit pretty in my flowery yellow dress and daydream about my future with a king, a queen and a prince.
But the first memory that comes to mind when it rains like tonight is always the memory of me running to a nearby Catholic church on the first week in Hawaii. I ran through the pouring rain in my yellow summer dress, and in my cheap flip-flops, and I stood in front of the Mother Mary shrine, and all I said was, ” Thank you.. thank you.. thank you…”
And on that rainy night–
on that silent night on the island,
standing alone in the dark, quiet, empty church–
I could not stop crying.
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