It is inevitable to lose the people we #love ; family members, friends, pets or colleagues. Experiencing the #loss is a pivotal part of the learning process to lead a happy and productive life. After all, on a long enough timeline - everyone departs. Every relationship comes with an expiry date, no matter where you put it. People leave. We get upset. Then, we move on. Only when we feel that the relationship has not reached its logical conclusion are we overwhelmed by its finality. So, we try hard to recall how they left us. We remember the sights of the departure; more importantly, the #sounds .
The muffled announcements at the #airport . The chugging melody of train wheels as they turn on rusty tracks. The hoarse cries of a hawker at the bus stop. The screeching of car tires, as they kick up dust and smoke. A front door slammed shut. The shrill notification tone of a private message. Or the gnashing of metal clamps against a fiberglass coffin.
#Goodbyes can be wordless compositions. A cacophony of noises that we associate with the loss of someone. Even if things get better, and we learn to live without them - the sound of their #departure can haunt us forever.
We hear them right before we take a shower. On a crowded road when we are stuck in traffic. Past the midnight hour when the TV watches us fall asleep. Anywhere and everywhere. When we least expect it. Or when we hear it a mile away. They are a part of the #soundtrack of our lives; belonging in the jukeboxes inside our heads. We can access them anytime. Play them, like dusty and scratchy LPs. Take from them what we need, and leave the rest to gently fall asleep.
Everybody loses the ones they care about. We all exit stage left some time or the other. And if we cannot love the ones - who have left us - the way we used to, we can at least turn them into songs. We can make music out of our memories of them, without ever having to lose them again.
#OrientalDarter - 9 hours ago