It was a little chilly when I walked outside last night to water the flowers. As I stood over the cedar boxes I could smell fall in the air. I can’t explain the smell except to say that I know it immediately when it hits me.
I set down the watering can, sat on the porch and looked up at the sky. There weren’t many stars out but I suddenly remembered the night he and I sat outside at the cabin, looking at the stars. I hadn’t thought about that night in a long time.
When I was about 8 years old, I remember overhearing a conversation in which a phrase was used that I had never heard.
“Mom, what’s 'melon calling'?”
“What’s what?”
“Melon calling,” I enunciated, “I heard some lady say it today and I don’t know what it means.”
“I don’t know either. Do you remember anything else she said?”
“She said she was sad and melon calling.”
I think it was a few minutes before the laughter subsided and my mom was able to explain.
So last night I sat on the porch and looked for the big dipper – the only constellation we were both able to accurately identify that night. He had laughed when I pointed out Venus…because it was actually a airplane. I laughed too and then I kissed him. He put his hand on my cheek, leaned his forehead against mine and whispered, “You’re the best person I know.”
We haven’t talked in three months. I haven’t returned a phone call or responded to an email; there are just certain things that an apology won’t fix. Actually, a sincere apology would have gone a long way. But an insincere apology? That’s just adding insult to injury.
For whatever reason though, I was missing him last night. We had made all of these plans for the summer – hiking, camping trips, baseball games, fly-fishing and movies at Red Rocks . I’ve actually done most of these things but he wasn’t there for any of it. And I can honestly say that it’s for the best.
I know that it's just a spell of loneliness and that I don't want him back but when I think about that night at the cabin, his forehead pressed up against mine…well, I can’t help but get a little melon calling.
5 comments:
Kendra, what a wonderful post. I have tears in my eyes. I know that feeling well -- melon calling. :) And missing someone that you know wasn't right. Even though you know you're better off without them, sometimes the melon calling (I love that) sneaks in. Hugs!
Piss on him. Foreheads are a dime a dozen.
woodrow made me laugh (thanks)
kc, that was a spectacularly well written post. thank you for sharing your feelings, your experiences. i also know that feeling. fortunately i get myself out of it by a quick reality check, remembering that straw that broke my back. then i know i did the right thing.
best of luck to you. again, thanks for the gorgeous post.
It doesn't matter whether it's for the best or not, you just can't help that melon calling feeling sometimes. Because even things that are SO WRONG in the big picture have lots of those "so right" moments. But I'm really glad you realize this already, and I loved your post!
surely the mellon calling can be helped by other star-related memories, such as "Hey Commies, look at this!" :) love ya!
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