The Dancing Scotch Tape

[bazou]

In the process of opening my diary last week for the first time in over 15 years, I found this little thing I wrote. I was 27 at the time, single mom, had moved back into my parents - those who had abused me - basement. I was in a really strange place both in my head, and heart, and life. Anyway, here it is.


The Dancing Scotch Tape

I woke up this morning to the sun shining on my face. My mom and Liam are gone. She had made an appointment to have his hair cut. She takes great joy in doing these little things with him. I could hear John Coltrane blasting. My dad being an ex jazzman and having that passion for music - I guess I get from him - takes every opportunity handed to him to go back down memory lane the minute my mom steps out of the house.
I'm lying in bed. It's warm under my comforter but I can feel the spring morning chill on the tip of my nose. I love that feeling. I finally crawl out of bed, my hair is at war, and my clothes... well... let's not go there. I start walking up the stairs and realize I can't see a damn thing in front of me. Glasses would help. I take a leap down the stairs, grab my glasses on my night stand, and head upstairs to the kitchen. The blinds on the patio door are closed. God knows why, seeing as the sun is shining out. What is it with growing old that makes you less tolerant of things like a sunny day? I don't get it.
My dad is sitting there reading Paris Match. I had gotten him a subscription for his birthday last year. It's going to run out come August, I think I'll renew it. I can see his head slowly bopping to the sound of the saxophone. As I stand there making my coffee and staring blankly at those blinds, slowly emerging, I can see the shadow of a strand of scotch tape flying in the wind. It's tied to our AC unit which my mom takes great care in wrapping up every fall before winter hits. The tape looks like it's dancing. Dancing to John Coltrane's saxophone. I smile. I put my toast in the toaster and grab the jar of Nutella. It's a sweet morning. Nutella fits the bill today. But my eyes are still focused on that strand of scotch tape. Soon enough, everything around me disappears and all that is left is the tape and the sound of John Coltrane's sax. It's dancing in the sun, it's happy. I start to laugh hysterically. I'm brought back to reality when my dad turns around and says "What's so funny?". I blush.
"Dad, that piece of tape seems to really like John Coltrane."
"Huh?", he says.
"Nevermind", I answer.
My dad stares at me for a moment, with that confused look on his face which I've seen so many times before.
They don't get it.
It doesn't matter. I do.
And I'm smiling.