Rose? It's Tom. Can I Sing You a Song?

This night, like many others, Tom had spent lying awake. Around four in the morning he’d finally given up the fight, electing to forget that he was trying to fall asleep and instead pace around to keep warm. He often didn’t have much luck sleeping. No. Not tonight. In fact, this year there has been no luck at all for Tom.

'I never saw the morning 'til I stayed up all night

I never saw the sunshine 'til you turned out your love light, baby

I never saw my hometown until I stayed away too long

I never heard the melody, until I needed a song.'

An old Waits’ record droned on in the background, taunting his mood into a paradoxical sensation of early morning elation. He felt sorry for himself, all alone up here in this frozen cabin, by the frozen pond, in the frozen air, knowing there was not a soul left in the world that cared. That was the truth, not self pity. This year, the last living relative he had, Cousin Suzy, had died from a brown recluse spider bite. It had been a painful death, the kind we all fear. His dog, a purebred Akita named Ollie, had walked off into the forest one night and not come back in early February. Akita’s are fiercely smart and stubborn dogs. In fact, they were bred in Japan for the purpose of hunting bears - well at least that’s what many people had informed Tom over the years. They’d always stop and point at Ollie and say ‘Akita?’ and then proceed to tell him what he’d already been told dozens of times before by overly talkative strangers. Ya, bear hunter. Tom reasoned that Ollie had grown bored with him and his ever changing waking hours and unjust outbursts of rage. How sad is that? Man’s best friend had gone out for cigarettes and never came home.

But, poor Ollie and Ol’ cousin Sue were really just the beginning of the tragedies now plaguing Tom. He’d lost his drive. He’d lost his lust for life. He had no desire to take any chance regarding anything anymore. Even gambling, a hobby he’d enjoyed for decades, now couldn’t spike his adrenaline. Is this what all old people felt, he wondered? Nothing was fun, or new, or exciting anymore. Even buttery pancakes in the morning had grown so utterly mundane.

The sun was coming up now, and thank the good lord it was. Tom was frail and thin and got cold as rocks do, without a fight from anywhere within. But, he still had a thick uncut mat of dark, messy hair. He was proud of that. He walked over to the window and looked east at the Rocky Mountain peaks. His guitar stood leaning precariously on the window framing. Tom picked the guitar up and began singing that sweet Waits’ melody now melted in his restless morning mind. The young sun was poking in and out of soft orange clouds over those jagged ridgelines.

'I never saw the white line, 'til I was leaving you behind

I never knew I needed you 'til I was caught up in a bind

I never spoke 'I love you' 'til I cursed you in vain,

I never felt my heartstrings, until I nearly went insane.'

Did all old men have so many regrets in love? Surely not as many as him. They’d all gone bad. Every single one of them. All his fault too. He’d cheat, then lie. Or lie and then cheat. Or he’d get bored and be a bad man. A bad friend. Those were the ones he felt worst about. It’s one thing to fail as a lover, it’s another to fail as a friend to a friend whom you love. And Tom most certainly did love some of those ladies. Occasionally, he’d hear on the news about his first love, Rose. She’d gone on to be a successful painter as she always assured him she would. Some of the others, he’d heard, had become very rich and successful by all of the usual metrics. A few of them, he’d heard, had passed on. Oh, to get old. He kept strumming, and now sang with much more conviction. Tears rolled down and hit his hand as he strummed softly.

'I never saw the east coast 'til I move to the west

I never saw the moonlight until it shone off of your breast

I never saw your heart 'til someone...tried to steal, tried to steal it away

I never saw your tears, until they rolled down your face.'

The sun was above the mountains now. Tom’s fingers had warmed up, but now he’d gotten the dragging tired one gets in the morning after staying up all night. He walked over to the cupboard by his telephone and began shuffling through the unorganized mess of papers. He found the paper he needed and dialed the number written on it with shaking fingers.

‘Rose? Uh, It’s Tom. I called to sing you a song. I learned guitar many years ago, like I had always said I would someday. Will you listen?’

'I never saw the morning 'til I stayed up all night

I never saw the sunshine 'til you turned out the light

I never saw my hometown until I stayed away too long

I never heard the melody, until I needed a song.

I never saw the white line, 'til I was leaving you behind

I never knew I needed you 'til I was caught up in a bind

I never spoke 'I love you' 'til I cursed you in vain,

I never felt my heartstrings until I nearly went insane.

I never saw the east coast 'til I moved to the west

I never saw the moonlight until it shone off your breast

I never saw your heart 'til someone tried to steal, tried to steal it away

I never saw your tears until they rolled down your face.'