The last metallic chime of Lara’s Theme fades as my eyes open. The dream, more like the rerun of a memory, floats away the further from sleep I get.
A sweet childhood music box given to my by my paternal grandmother, long forgotten, was now the one thing I thought about all morning.
I tried, so hard, to remember the name of the music, finally giving in to calling my dad and humming (badly) the theme. He recognized it immediately.
Lara’s Theme from Dr. Zhivago.
“Somewhere, my love, there will be songs to sing. Although the snow covers the hopes of Springs”.
The music box.
I loved it.
In its clear plastic dome, a pair of dancers waltzed and twirled up and down on a metal pole. She in a yellow gown while he wore a painted on black tuxedo with tails. Their arms, poised in a dancers embrace yet, never touching. They had an awkward, middle school dance pose.
I would stare for hours into their little world, fantasizing. Turning the key as the music slowed their dance.
I was her.
The girl in the yellow dress.
I was a princess.
Always cursed by a jealous stepmother or a wicked witch who cast a spell banishing me to dance with my prince, forever.
A different variation but always the same theme.
I had a crazy imagination. Always. Oy.
I remember being worried about the dancers and trying to poke holes in the thick plastic casing to allow oxygen in.
Just in case.
I don’t know what made me dream of my childhood music box. I hadn’t thought of it in a long time.
I wish I knew where it was. Probably carelessly thrown out in one of many moves.
It’s not the music box with its fake wood base and plastic case. Nor is it the metallic rendition of the old popular tune.
I thought of the dancers.
My princess with her plastic prince.
She in her faded yellow dress and he in his painted on tuxedo.
I wondered if they ever escaped that witch curse.
I wondered if they ever got to touch. To finally embrace after years of a frozen tease.
Or if they are frozen in time, buried in the darkness of others lost and forgotten memories.
“Till then, my sweet, think of me now and then. Godspeed, my love, till you are mine again”.