To NR. My heart feels so tight today. It needs an outpouring— of grief and joy, of all the things that make it so heavy, so dense. A stampede of emotions, disconnected hues. It just rained here. The sky was dark, and sad. But now—light, breezy, hot and humid. You remember, don’t you, What it feels like in Florida after the heavy rain? I even saw a rainbow today. It made me think of our jokes, our giggles. And we could giggle— still. I feel fortunate that I had the rain, the clouds, the rainbow, and now the sun and a blue sky. For fleeting moments, yes— but still. I have the memory of them, at least for now. And Flamenco is playing, saying softly: te quiero. It resonates almost like the sound of almonds as spoken by you— in the whispering escaping from your lips, unsolicited eroticism and yet welcomed. In the same way, I feel fortunate to have experienced us. Even if it was only a fraction of time— a Dali clock, melting away. Our time together, shaped by ...
Like every Monday for years, I come home from work and call my mother. If I call her any other day she wonders if something is wrong, why am I calling? She seems to be doing well at 80. Then I check my e-mails and what friends have posted on line. I got to yours and I just stopped. Five simple words have so much meaning behind them. Almost three years without my father, I miss him every day...
ReplyDeleteEnjoy every minute you can with your mom. I never thought I'd miss my mom this much, simply because I thought she was so strong, she would never leave us. Naive, right? It's not easy to lose a parent. Somehow that changes our lives forever. The more recent the loss, more acutely painful it is. I am sorry about your loss. Thanks for the comment.
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