I’ve been feeling out of it all day. Feeling defeated, frustrated, overwhelmed. Teared up a couple times today with no idea why. Tried to pull myself out of the funk, to no avail.

We went out and got dinner, then went for a bit of a drive. It was twilight, and the glow of the pretty much already set sun was peeking from behind the horizon. We drove through a low lying area next to a swamp (maybe a lake), and the glow on the water was beautiful. Hard to tear my eyes away. NPR was on, very faintly, in the background. All I could hear was the whistling s’s of the Prairie Home Companion host. I was curious to what he was saying, but was also being lulled by the softness of the almost inaudible voice. As if reading my mind, Drew reached over and turned it up and we caught the tail end of a story; some man sneezing so hard that he pulled his back. Though I didn’t really understand the story, having come in in the middle, I was still entranced. I leaned back in the car seat, took a deep breath and let myself be lulled once again by the sound of his voice. I felt like a little girl being put to bed after successfully begging her daddy for a bedtime story. As I listened, I gazed at the faint outline of the passing trees, still luminous from the twilight all around.

The story wrapped up and was followed by a brief piano piece. It was simple, peppy, and relaxing. Drew reached over and took my hand, and we drove in silence along the deserted country road. I took a few more deep breaths and felt a little more tension fizzle away. Canopy roads enveloped us, but every now and again we caught a glimpse of the slight sliver of a moon in the sky.

Another short story followed, then the show was wrapped up by the musical guest for the day, an acoustic duo. They did a song entitled Paradise Lost. It was a song with acoustic guitar and harmonizing vocals. The lyrics were simple and reflected on the times when we could play for hours in a field and run thru the woods in our backyard. How everyone longs for a home on the hill with a view of heaven. Now all that is concrete and buildings and no trespassing signs. During the song, I was truly transfixed. When it was over, I simply thought, “Wow.” I was really touched by it in a way that no music has touched me in a long time. After a moment of silence, Drew commented on the song, saying that it was really captivating. It really was.

We arrived home shortly thereafter, and stood in our dark front yard (we’d both forgotten the porch light) and looked up at the stars. We held each other for a few moments, and I hesitated, not quite ready to go inside yet. I hugged my husband a little tighter.

I came home a little more whole.