Before We Were Yours

by Lisa Wingate

Every available avenue is paved with guilt, lined with pain, and pockmarked with shame.

Grief and a change of location can often be more than the mind and body can handle.”

She lets out a purring sigh, like a cat in a sunny chair.

Do we carry the guilt from the sins of past generations? If so, can we bear the weight of that burden?

I shush my mind, because your mind can ruin you if you let it. I have to pay attention, to do everything right so I don’t get caught.

We were young women with lives and husbands and children by the time we were brought together again. We chose not to interfere with one another. It was enough for each of us to know that the others were well….

Life is not unlike cinema. Each scene has its own music, and the music is created for the scene, woven to it in ways we do not understand. No matter how much we may love the melody of a bygone day or imagine the song of a future one, we must dance within the music of today, or we will always be out of step, stumbling around in something that doesn’t suit the moment.

This music of old age…it isn’t made for dancing. It’s so…lonely. You’re a burden to everyone.”

“A woman’s past need not predict her future. She can dance to new music if she chooses. Her own music. To hear the tune, she must only stop talking. To herself, I mean. We’re always trying to persuade ourselves of things.”

But the love of sisters needs no words. It does not depend on memories, or mementos, or proof. It runs as deep as a heartbeat. It is as ever present as a pulse.

“There was a little girl who had a little curl…”