After I posted, I went and got Richy to come and talk to me. Sometimes
fear goes away easier when I talk about it.
So he laid here and talked to me and preached at me and prayed.... and
then it started raining. On my tin roof... and it was all very
peaceful.
After a while he went back and started working on his CD again.
And it was so weird and comforting and deja-vu.
Laying in my dark room, very tired and comfortable. And feet away music
is blaring, stopping, changing.... editing....
it was such a flashback to my life with my dad. Different, but so
familiar. I remember falling asleep to every kind of music or
narration, or ocassionally, explosions. And the sound had to be
revamped, over and over again.
I'm so grateful that I don't just have hands llke Daddy. or no butt. Or
irreverent humor at the most inopportune times in my head. All of those
things are a blessing.
But the music at midnight.... a gift.
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