EVANTHE MEMORY OF A DREAM

                       THE MEMORY OF A DREAM

      I grew up in a family where laugh suits an ordinary conversation and music counts a livin' prayer. Being six boys in the generation of Cassidy, I wasn't that lucky to be the last. First because I have my brothers teasing me and second I'm only 8 years old to withstand them not until I've reached the 3rd grade when my life story turned up side down.
     It started on a Wednesday morning, my first day to a Central University, a few days after we moved in to a new residence in Detroit, thanks to my dad's new contract. A heavy metal artist has its own benefits. It's just that I choose to conquer life in a peaceful manner even if a hard talk with dad seems to be my breakfast every morning. 
Going back to my high school memoirs, the classes started in formal duration. It leave me no choice but to sit not on my favorite spot. The whole damned class were over all annoying, well, not totally after meeting Andy Rhouy who wore the sweetest smile that I can't resist but to sit beside her always. 
     Time passed so quickly and I chose not to discuss school stuffs and problems to my family which I've learned for the past few days. Dad used to tell me "you can't live without your family", and I treated it as a false belief, 'coz I wanted to prove them I can have my own life without them, especially the day when my brother Ted locked me in the basement. 
     Gorgeous life passed 'till darkness filled the house which eventually crushed my heart. The last time I saw dad, he was lying on his bed with more than ten tubes on his body, pause breathing. 
      Pity. 
      Regrets! 
      I already achieved the silence and peace in the house. Whenever we ate dinner, go to church or do household stuff, it was full of grieve and tears. I thought I would be happy without noise, without dad singing and banging in the beat of power metal. I was wrong. The first time I visited him at the hospital, he couldn't speak. That was also the first time when my brothers and I get together and talked as brothers.

     His eyes told me he's happy, though he didn't recognized me; and even remembered nothing about mom. He smiled at me and I felt something tickled in within me like the way Andy's smiles told me the first time I saw her. Dad said he didn't know what to do or where to go through his letters he thankfully managed to write. And I wrote him back . After reading it he cried. I hope he remembered. The letter says "You go into the light". He usually told me that, whenever I cried because I was bullied again by my brother Nick. 
     It was weeks after Dad kicked his last gig in Denmark. His head- injury coma brought by the stampede caused him too much pain. Unexpected volunteers soon filled up the hospital for dad's therapeutic recovery enabling him to write and make expressions. 
     One night, lying on the couch, I've touched a hard long string over my feet, "slash!" Dad's metallic guitar was named 'slash', a loved icon behind his music career. After the whole night playing it, I felt peace. Why didn't I understand dad easily? His music truly meets me at the middle of darkness. He once told me " music is the only one you can go to when you run out of friends ". Then a spark lighted between my pride and wisdom that settled me to say the two words he'd been waiting for me to tell,

........."thank you". 

P.S. Dad died 30th

      of December with

      a smile on his face.

                       -musicfunk-

Author's Note

inspired by a friend...

Reviews

[Joshua]

There were a few minor mistakes, including two sentences that should have been combined into one using a comma and a paragraph that hadn't been indented. In the last paragraph, I don't think the word "cough" belongs, did you mean to write "couch"?

Heart wrenching piece in general. The aforementioned errors don't really matter all that much. Amazing writing...

[paparapapa]

This is definitely heart wrenching. Sad, sweet, beautiful and captivating. Thanks for sharing such a touching piece.

[EMF]

One word. Sublime. Nothing else needs to be said about this. It's that good

[kjsa]

Good job, I like that you added small details that make a story really fit together. The end was nice adding the personal touch to it.

[Coyote Poetry]

A excellent story. Life teaches us to appreciate people and accept loss. I like the way you told the story. With some history and a sad ending. I like the description of the guitar. A very good ending to a excellent story.
Coyote

[natzky]

...really awesome',,I can relate to the story since my dad and I is not that really in good terms' but I do love my dad' ...heheh