The Subway's Reminder

The T-station seemed remarkably still while trains were out of ear-shot. Besides a few quiet conversations, the sound that filled the tunnel was the old-timey voice of a scruffy blind man singing- his cane keeping the beat. He sang clearly, and in my opinion, much better than the majority of wanna-be-pop-stars featured on American Idol.
Maybe millions of people pass by
But they all disappear from view
Cuz I only have eyes for you.

I looked around at all the others waiting quietly for the next orange line train. And I knew we were all remembering our own love stores. While not everyone might admit to it, a romantic Ella tune magically takes you to another place. I wondered later what thoughts came to my fellow travelers during those moments… A woman’s broken heart of a recently lost love; A husband’s reminder to get those flowers for his wife on the way home; A teenager’s dream of someone to call her own. Whether this man’s A Cappella love songs brought smile, tear, or wish, we all were swept away. We’ve all experienced, or at least dreamed of some beautiful, unique love. And it’s strange sometimes what gets us to remember.
If it had been a movie, I’d picture this singer on the other side of the closing subway doors, removing his sunglass desguise and winking at us. As if to say, “you’re welcome.”

Comments

  1. MelanieOctober 12, 2011 at 8:19 PM

    Love this, Meredi!! The song was written in 1934 and made famous by The Flamingos in 1959! I guess Ella knows how to pick 'em! Mom

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ricola wrappers and tissue stuffing...and a flaw.

Image
1/8 You guessed it- week one of trash in a quart and I got a nasty cold... And, I learned something: sickness creates unwanted trash! Now my bag, at a week's end is stuffed with cough drop wrappers, Klenexes (which  I've learned perhaps can be composted), and medicine wrappers (also learned that medicine like alkaseltzer for cold doesn't even really work). I tried to accept the challenge with no tissues on day one of the cold by using an old sock (I don't have a hankie). That quickly became rather gross and so I gave into "America's leader in facial tissue softness".... Overall, I was thinking my baggie for a week was going pretty well. Everything besides flushed toilet paper and work trash (due to health department requirements I can't exactly be eco-friendly... but we'll see what more can be done on that note at a later time) was fitting into my bag. Then today I realized there has been a flaw in my plans. .. I live in a house with 9 other peo
Read more
On Friday, I read an article in the Arizona Daily Star headlined “Arizona is now no. 2 in poverty.” One in five Arizonans are living below the poverty line. And I’m fairly certain that a life hovering above that line is nothing near easy. So, that statistic can’t even begin to capture the amount of individuals living with too little food, unsafe housing, and an immeasurable amount of stress. And here I am in South Tucson, Arizona. As of last year, the poverty rate for this 1.2 square mile of a city was at 46.2%. That’s almost half of the population living below this “line.” The Primavera Foundation where I am working has several emergency shelters, as well a handful of transitional housing programs. As of late, they are usually all at or near capacity. Earlier this week I spent the morning in the central intake office. People can call this office to learn about and apply for housing programs. Because I am so new to the foundation, I could not actually answer telephone calls- I simply l
Read more

Switching Places

Out of infinite longings rise finite deeds like weak fountains, falling back just in time and trembling. And yet, what otherwise remains silent, our happy energies—show themselves in these dancing tears. - Rainer Maria Rilke You know those moments when all you can do is cry? It comes almost instantaneously- you don’t even have a chance to think about it. It feels like everything inside of you swells up- and all that’s swollen decides to seep out through your eyeballs. And these are the tears that usually stream- they don’t gather, drip, or slip back inside. And sometimes, if it’s just perfect, you can feel each individual strand as it falls from your lid, traces along the side of your cheek and free falls from chin to chest. It is when the tears come like this, with no forceful desire for emotion, that I feel most human.   Daniel’s * eyes are often wet as he tells me of his latest health concern, loneliness of the death of a family member, or anxieties of living in a room with
Read more