Gueca Solo

How it started, my first post 

Less than a year ago, I came home to vacuum. At the time,  called it an energy suck. Andre, my neighbor’s son had been in a terrible car accident. It was late at night. Cars were parked up and down the street. Thought at the time, it was another party. However, knew something was not right. No music was playing.

Last night, it was different. Music played loudly from my neighbor’s house. Walking passed I could see my neighbor’s dancing. They have a large mirror in their front room and I could see them work on their dance routine. Could feel the smiles from the outside. It brought happiness to my heart knowing that after all this time, they can still dance. Met Andre at the side of a road Post

Energy is not the same as before when their son and brother was there. Yet, they still move. They still dance. From what I hear, the family will be moving soon. No more wild parties. No more dancing in the windows. No more cars parked up and down the street. For this will be sad. No more children playing in pool. No more laughter and smiles from my next door. No more dancing in the windows.

This is what will be missed. Yet, they will move on. The spirit of their lost son will be. . .I don’t know. Here, I guess. His passing was difficult one. However, this family will be alright.

A song kept coming to mind last night. It is an older song, Gueca Solo.  It is beautiful song of sorrow and sadness. It is a song of defiant protest. It is a song of love and memory. It is a song that reminds me of my neighbors. The theme of the song by Sting partially fits my neighbors' plight. 

Why are there women here dancing on their own? Why is there this sadness in their eyes?
Why are the soldiers here Their faces fixed like stone?
I can't see what it is that they despise They're dancing with the missing
They're dancing with the dead They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid They're dancing with their fathers
They're dancing with their sons They're dancing with their husbands
They dance alone They dance alone

There move is inevitable. They no longer water their lawn. Dirt and dust remains as their lawn these days. No longer rich and green, the damage unseen. It is the path they chose leaving. The ocean of sadness has caused them to migrate to green pastures.

However, they will be alright. They will survive. The women no longer dance alone. No longer are their faces fixed as stone. They still dance with dance with the missing. They still dance with dead and invisible ones. Anguish has been said. Women no longer dance alone.  They dance with each other, they with the living.

Read in a Facebook post that my cousin’s friend will be saying his last goodbyes to his mother tonight. She is holed up in Cedar-Sinai. Words were simple and matter of fact. This basic of message said much to me. Knowing one’s passing is inevitable and welcome. It made me think of the hardship and tragedies one faces. Betrayal, anger, doubt, hurt, pain. This right here is the stuff that hardens us. Sometimes it breaks us. Sometimes it makes us feels lost and disconnected.

Yet, still. We need these moments.

Seven fat cows. Seven skinny ones--A dream from one of the Bible characters. This meant there would be seven years of feast and seven of famine. People are made of sterner stuff. These moments of joys is our emotional savings account. It is built on family parties and trips to the beach. It is the moments of standing on the podium arms raised up in gymnastic success. It is times being at the Bee and scoring 600 out of 600 on State Math test. It is swimming without a floatie for the first time. These are the moments of the Fat Cow. 

When we face the seven lean years, we can remember to dance.  We can remember that we do not have to dance alone. We can remember that it is okay to leave our homes and move on. It is time to let Mother Earth, Gaea, reclaim our borrowed bodies. At times, we need to let our lawns return back to its original desert state.

Life is a form of protest in the entropy. It is the rebuild, it is the creation. It is the Re-Creation. Life is the tool we use to battle the betrayal, the anger and doubt. Living and moving on are what we need to wash away the hurt and pain. Living is not for the weak. It is for the strong of heart, strong in spirit, and strong in character.

So this I say, Gueca Solo. We will dance alone. Yet, there will be a time when you will not Dance Alone.