Hey everyone. I know it’s late, and this is a bit out of character for me, but I feel like I need to share something that’s been weighing on my heart. It’s about something I discovered recently, something that changed how I see myself and my past.
It all started last month when I was cleaning out the attic. It’s one of those chores I’ve been putting off forever, you know? But I was finally up there, surrounded by dusty old boxes and forgotten memories, when I stumbled upon an old cassette tape. The label was faded, but I could still make out a handwritten note: ‘Mom’s song.’
I don’t know why but seeing that tape gave me an odd feeling, like déjà vu mixed with a longing I couldn’t quite place. I had an old cassette player in a box nearby, so I decided to listen to it. The moment the music started, a soft piano melody filled the room, and it was like a key had unlocked something deep inside me.
My mom used to play the piano all the time when I was a kid. I remember lying on the floor in the living room, my head resting on my hands, just listening to her play. But this song… it was different. It was beautiful and haunting, like a gentle breeze carrying whispers of forgotten stories.
As I listened, tears started to roll down my cheeks. They weren’t tears of sadness, but of something I can’t quite explain—like I was reconnecting with a part of myself I didn’t know I had lost.
I played the tape over and over, trying to understand why it affected me so deeply. Then it hit me—this song was her story. She never played it for us, never mentioned it, but her soul was in every note.
Growing up, I always had this feeling that there was a distance between my mom and me, something unspoken that kept us apart. I’d never understood why, and I think part of me resented it. But listening to that song—’Mom’s song’—it was like I could hear her thoughts, her dreams, her quiet pains.
I think she wrote it during a difficult time in her life, maybe when she was feeling lost or alone. It was her way of coping, of expressing what she couldn’t say out loud. And perhaps, in her own way, she hoped I would find it someday, that it would help me understand her.
After that afternoon, everything started to make sense. The way she looked at me sometimes, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. The long, silent walks she would take in the evenings. Those moments weren’t about us being distant; they were about her being trapped within herself, just trying to find a way to reach me.
I wish I had known sooner. I wish I had taken the time to really talk to her, to ask her about her music, about how she felt. But I can’t change the past. What I can do, though, is cherish this newfound understanding.
Since then, I’ve been playing her song every day. It reminds me of her strength and vulnerability, and it’s become a way for me to feel close to her, even though she’s gone.
This whole experience has taught me so much about the importance of truly listening, not just with our ears but with our hearts. We often get caught up in our own worlds, our own struggles, and we miss the quiet stories others are telling us in their own ways.
So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, if there’s someone in your life who you feel distant from, try reaching out. Listen to the silences as much as the words. You never know what truths you might discover.
Thanks for listening to my rambling. I just needed to share this with someone. I hope it resonates with you in some way.