This Is What You Came For

Photo by K. Kelley

This Is What You Came For

For the call from the accident claim office. To repeat the accident scene. Again. When you don’t want to talk about it anymore because you know the acidic bile in your stomach will churn and rise again.

This is What You Came For

In Capital Letters.

in lowercase letters, what you might miss if you can’t stop thinking about the acidic bile wreaking havoc on your esophagus. you might miss your daughter asking you about Julliard, quietly, while she eats her after-school snack. The girl you worried about incessantly when she didn’t want to go to school and only knew the letter x and the number 0.


“Mom, do you know anything about Julliard?”

To want to go to a performing arts college is enough.

To only want to sing in perfect pitch while listening to music by yourself is enough.

To hear this girl raise her voice in song every day is enough.

It’s enough to calm me down. To think that it’s OK that I get churned up because I know how to calm myself down. I know how to make my girl laugh because I’m willing to act weird. I’m willing to car dance, shrug my shoulders up and down and left and right while adding in hand motions while she sings in perfect pitch as we drive about town.

This is what we came for: the music in between the bile churning times. Can I hear my girl singing? Julliard.



2 thoughts on “This Is What You Came For

    1. Ha ha. No. It’s that assignment in 6th grade where they write to a school. At least she likes the assignment. My older daughter thought it was ridiculous and wrote to the UW.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *