IN HER PAIN…CARES FOR OTHERS2011-03-06 at 09:31 am Blog RSS
It was a regular and typical day. Nothing was special. Sun-rays, still playing, come and go on my face, without letting me to enjoy my morning sleep. I stay still for few minutes, with thought, that they will go away. Not even close. They keep come and go, like they are all alone preparing a party on my face. I let them. They are funny and cute in theirs childish game. My sleepy mind tried to think what should do in that day. Not too much, but I have many to do…
Hold on, with my mind still sleepy and with Sun-rays full of play, I try to make myself room in this morning, in this old world, but unknown for me. The house is ready to wake up. Sun-rays get her? I don’t know. I just try to listening her moves and his noises. They are strange, don’t looks like the typical sounds heard in every morning. Hey, it sounds like something I know…oh, no, just a sleepy door who just glued on her frame with anger. Nothing unusual in this house! I decided that in this new morning to hold my life for few seconds, maybe minutes or maybe hours and listen. To listen for the first time the noises around me, who never was important to my life, to observe things witch I don’t believe it I saw before, until now. Interesting this new world! Where are the Sun-rays now? They found another game? Oh, now…they are here in my show. But I didn’t invite them. I only hear doors opening and trapping. Anyway, don’t look like it was from my house. Everything is new, from the first Sun-ray, to the noises of the house. I have time, so, I stay and listen. Looks like something new. I hope I’m not dreaming….another noise. This time was much easy, much wiser, but more discreet. He has a special air. Has grace and power. Has determination, but is rather weak. It is a door noise. How can make this door noise to be that weak, but in the same time, so decided? I will follow that noise; it is made by a…woman. Delicate, decided, suave, but strong. What a mixture! My heart looks like she wants to break my body and go out; hey…were do you want to go, my little heart? She was scared by a damn weird noise. Well, then? Who makes it? Looks like a tornado coming. I don’t have a chance to see, or feel one in my life, but the TV left me a clue about how it is. I think she looks like what I just heard. Opens, slams, don’t close. He sit at the table, the noise of the open newspaper is so energetically, so rush, maybe a little bit nervous, and yes…he gives orders. He never hears any noise. He gets a simple, routine and indifferent noise. May be an ignorance noise, but I don’t think so. It is from the woman who was earlier. He finish, is up and he goes in the same way he came. Silence…with easily, I hear preparing noises. My heart doesn’t want to go anymore. I got her in my game. She set and listens. I hear the same movement. With care and carefully, with the routine of the years, she washing, remove, place objects on the table, closed and opens doors. She put a light on something…the cooker flame. Probably prepare something. But she makes a strange noise. It is not from preparations. It is from the soul, it is from her pain. She keeps going…kitchen noises can not cover the noise of pain. How powerful it is, but she ignored him. She has something else to do, something she’s doing for years, but with the same noise of pain. She blend like an a crown of spikes, noises of pain, of habit, regular love, of hope, of love…maybe the noise of love…yes, but, this not appear to be present in her crown of spikes. The noise of sorrow is present.
I decided. I will go after that crown of noises for one day. How rich is this crown…and she looks so beautiful, or maybe she was. I can not figure it out; I will go closer. Silence…hey, this time is outrageous. Same, like earlier, the noises of two little tornado make their appearance. They scream, they cry, they caress it, they order, to whom? To the crown, of noises. She only listens. She looks at them with adoration. For a while the noise of pain is covered by the noise of love. What noise of love…sweet, suave, forgiven, determined and, yes, patiently! There is someone that can leave like this?! It is so fascinating this interweaving. Preparing noises, are heard, she makes them. Voice noises…they come too. Scold, but she’s not yelling, advisor, but she’s not order, she wanted to spoil them, but she can not. Interesting. The spoil noise it is pretty weak. She keeps him hide. Little tornados could stifle; choke him, so she hides him. What a crown of noises in this morning. Looks like a habit. Pain cuts her. Stabs, in the lowest corner of her body. I wish I could say something to her, to stop all this. But I can not do that. Why is that? I don’t have a noise to reach to her, to hear. She only keeps going. Little noise goes. I can hear only the pain noise. That is what remains to her. She cuddle, she gather her self. She ignored that noise, but it is still present. What a crazy noise! She seems common to her. She makes other noises. Finishing. Oh…I see …she prepare herself. I can’t see her, but I feel the way she looks at herself. She is alone with her crown of noises. But she still has that pain. I hear noise from arranged hair. She makes him in hurry, palms touch her face, probably, and she looks at her. She doesn’t do that for a long time. Other noises came, witch she blends. She is in hurry. She were a dress that was prepared before and dressed her indifferent. It is strange, the pain is still there. I can hear. I think she ignores her, or it is used with her? Now, she’s ready. Opens, closed and she go. It is the last noise made by her. I think she goes to her work. I can not hear the noises from there, but I guess. She goes with the noise of pain…not leaving her. It is so normal to her and I think she even notice anymore. Now, is silence! No noise.
What a morning. Still, I don’t realize where I am. I wait. Exciting, this game of noises… I have in my mind that crown of noises. It is beautiful, but sad in the same time. I wander if she knows about it. Probably she not pays attention anymore. In hurry all the time, she not notice, she keeps her attention on the others. Unhappy…but she must please others. Concerned for the house noises, without paying attention for her own noises.
I did not feel when the sleep came to me and I did not know when this noise spells me. But, hey… I just hear familiar noise, in fact many. Oh…the same pain and another new noise appear. It’s a happiness one. It is the joy of coming home. And here she comes, noise of habit. Are so many. The house is cared, is cleaned and it is arranged. What a blind, what a crown. It is she. She starts all over again, with different order. The noise of her self concern is not blend. Concerning of others is her second nature and the pain follows her. Oh…the noise of little storm, just arrived. Careless and selfish, they only demand from her. They take and go. They left her alone. Another noise I hear. It is from tired. No one notice him, but it’s usual for her. She keeps continue to prepare.
The day is finish, so others noise get around. I wish I can hear the noise of her heart, at her tiredness, soul and mind. The walls from between us are too thick, or seams to me in this way. I wish I could take in my arms and cuddle those noises of her: mind, heart and soul. I want to chase the noise of pain, lock him, that never could came to her. I want, that she could have only the noise of relaxing, the noise only for self esteem. I want to admire and hear the noise of her hand on his beautiful face. But I can not do that. The noise of my despair breaks my soul and I can feel her pain noise. It’s present all the time in her crown of noises. Any noise she makes, this noise is present. If she care and teach her little storms, he is there, if she wait a tornado, is there, if she try to pay attention to her self, is there, if she care for her home, is there. Anything she would blend in her crown, the noise of pain is still there like a weeds in a wheat ears yellow crown. And I can not make a small, little noise for help.
After such a day, the only noise witch I can hear is the noise of silence. Even the pain stop’s a little bit. She is alone with her soul noise. She’s thinking. I wander at what? I wish to hear her. Not yet. The magic of the late summer night shroud her. I can feel in the end the noise of relaxing. I never even hear when she sat down. What a crown of noises!
And I was not able to do anything. I can hear my sadness and despair noise. If she can hear it, she knows how to make them to go away from me.
But, hey…all this noises is from my mother! It is my mother crown of noises…and I can not do anything. But, she in her own noise of pain, care for others crown of noises.
This is for all women, who care for others in their own pain.
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