Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand

It is incredible how some small thing can transport you through time and space to a single moment in your life. The world of now melts away, meaningless... A wave of sound or smell sweeps you up and fills every sense you have. Instantly you're gone.

"I've been downhearted baby... been downhearted baby... every since the day we met."

The beat of this song by Primitive Radio Gods takes me to a day or two after my mom died. A perfectly serene day. All the windows in the house were open. All the doors. The breeze swept gently through as did the moving bodies of living people here to support my dad, my sisters, and I. Who were they all?

"We sit outside and argue all night long about a god we've never seen but never fails to side with me."

Some faces I knew, some I didn't. They were sweet with love and sadness... just like the sunshine outside. It really was the perfect day. I always wanted to write that poem. "The Price of a Perfect Day" The day after her death, her memorial, her funeral... sublimely perfect days. Almost impossibly so. But this one day was the most of all. Maui was never more vivid, wearing her brightest colors.

"If I die before I learn to speak, can money pay for all the days I lived awake but half asleep?"

It's amazing who actually shows up in a crisis. Not always who you think would. And so many who should have didn't. Despite feeling alone, we weren't. I can see them coming and going. This memory may span more than one day. I don't know. I floated through it like a feather on gusts of air. Shocked, fragile, grateful, and broken. The song played over and over. I'm not sure why. My sister Kit and I both loved it so much at the time. I'm not the only one it takes back. We all feel it. We can smell the plumeria leis being made by our Hawaiian aunties. We can feel the hugs from their full arms.

"I've been downhearted baby. I've been downhearted baby... ever since the day we met... ever since the day we met."

Then the song ends. Everyone leaves eventually. The emptiness sets in. Night falls. As the sun turns off, the red light turns on in my deep dark room. I didn't sleep much. And then I think I slept for two years... because I don't remember a lot during that time.

14 years can't erase or wear down the clarity this song brings. It really is amazing.


Play.