Bobby, I should be disturbed - Part 5

House.

Empty.

Shell.

Drained.

Home again with no mother. Mom's dogs whimper at the door when Mom doesn't follow behind us. I see their little scruffy feet scratch the garage door. "Mom's dead & she ain't coming back you stupid mutts"

The bitterness begins...and will never quite leave me. Soon the dogs give up on their scratching & then....lay down in front of the garage door, their stinky muzzles resting on their paws. There they would stay for weeks at a time. They never again whimpered, I swear they understood my words..."she's dead." Watching their dejected little faces, my heart broke for them. My heart broke for my moms loyal dogs. The thought made me giggle.

I find my father standing frozen, staring out our patio door. Such a beautiful, bright summer day. We are stuck. At a stand still. Stale. Upended. What the hell do we do now? Do we eat? Make phone calls? Put on lipstick? How does one go about their life when a loved one dies?

So there we were, a tragic little family. 2 mangy mutts slumped by the door, Dad in a trance, looking at nothing and me, wind blown hair I hadn't brushed for 8 hours (which for a girl is a rare thing) 15 years old going on 35.

We stand for minutes, hours, days...not breathing. Finally Dad drifts off upstairs to change & I am left alone. I find myself pushing the button on the stereo. Afraid I will hear my Dad weep at any moment, I push my ear up against the speaker to quiet the voices in my head. "got to call friends, cancel trip, make dinner, do laundry, call funeral hometakeshowermakebedfeedthedogstrynottothrowup" thoughts racing, racing.

I flop on the couch listening to the car SALE! SALE! SALE! commercial & all I can think is "car man, you suck, my moms' dead"

I stew.

I seethe.

Then....it happens. A song comes on I have never heard before.

"Dooo do do doOooOOOooooOOoooO. OooooOOOooooooo. OooooooOOO."

I sit on the couch & yell to dad. "Dad! Get down here! Listen to this!"

My dad soon appears behind me.

"Listen Dad."

"Here's a little song I wrote

You might want to sing it note for note

Don't worry, be happy

In every life we have some trouble

but when you worry you make it double

Don't worry, be happy"

Next thing I know, my grief stricken father is snapping his fingers & dancing. We both are hypnotised by our new found friend Bobby McFerrin. We laugh at the hilarity of it all. Dad grabs my hands, we dance & laugh.

Before we know it, our song has ended, leaving us giggling & sacked out on the couch. Dad insists mom sent us the song & I don't doubt him. Bobby McFerrin has left our souls humming & our minds clear. After we recover from our improv song & dance routine, we gather up our new found strength & battle on to our next morbid activities....all while humming "Don't worry, be happy."