Tag Archives: Lovers

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She’s Waiting There for Me

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Kiss Me Down by the Broken Tree House

KissMeDownByTheBrokenTreeHouse

Morning/Mourning Prayers

 

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I’m not Jewish, but I find holding on to traditions/rituals comforting. I noticed that some white people find comfort in Japanese/Asian rituals. Perhaps it’s a way of associating death as a foreign concept. I don’t know.

I look for answers on Google for where my Lover could possibly be. Sometimes Google’s not dependable.

Except one article in the NYT mentioned a study on complicated grief:

when patients with complicated grief looked at pictures of their loved ones, the nucleus accumbens — the part of the brain associated with rewards or longing — lighted up. It showed significantly less activity in people who experienced more normal patterns of grieving.

“It’s as if the brain were saying, ‘Yes I’m anticipating seeing this person’ and yet ‘I am not getting to see this person,’ ” Dr. O’Connor said. “The mismatch is very painful.”

This mismatch. This pain. This I know.

So Here I Am…Still Here

Italy 2010

Italy 2010

I almost deleted this blog. This blog that I read over one more time before hitting delete and finding pieces of conversations and memories between my partner and I.  I and, he is…

My partner passed away suddenly, unexpectedly.

My mouth forms an implacable O.

While I can pretend he’s away on a trip, while I can pretend his energy will drink the hot water I place on his side of the bed every day I come home and wait for him and still wait for him, there was something here in this blog that needed to be said.

Where and how I will or choose to I don’t know. But this. Walking together needed to be said.

Unavailable: Birding Outing on the 22nd Floor of the First Hawaiian Center

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Unavailable: Birding Outing on the 22nd Floor of the First Hawaiian Center

 

Tuesday, 12:05pm
She never leaves her office for lunch on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Always on Mondays, she leaves late, around 1230. Wednesdays later, but never past 1:15.

Wednesday, 12:55pm
It’s power-suit Wednesday red. And she’ll sit in the shade nibbling her sandwich like a mouse and pretend saving the world with her swift email replies—except when she needs both hands for her yogurt cup. It’s a silent tradition of unpacking empty cups and bags in front of her kitchen sink late at night. Later tonight, I’ll call red haired Nicki and we’ll go a few a rounds before I send her to the corner mart for a bottle of vodka.

Thursday, 2:25pm
Shoes off, hair up, tightly hunched over. I used my binocs once, but damn if the people in the photos didn’t look like them models when you first purchase those frames. Even the golden retriever was smiling.

Thursday, 5:28pm
Wed Nicki, Thursday Kari. Usually Monday or Tuesday Nicki will roll around after her husband’s sleeping. I can always count on egg rolls and beer with Nicki. Kari brings blindfolds and cigarette burn marks. Shoes off, hair up, tightly hunched over. Still.

I Never Asked Him about the Dark Woman in the Photo

I heard my parents arguing
until the coldest part of the night
held hostage “happily ever” from my mom.
Afterward, they shared no one bed
and erased their anniversary celebrations.
We ate in silence: pan fried liver and sweated onions.

I wasn’t supposed to know
my father brought her into our living room,
past our kitchen with the new microwave,
past all my siblings’ bedrooms.

I wasn’t supposed to know
this affair went on for months–
months my mother grew her voice
among self-slicing thorns and her wrist.

I knew my father paid for us to vacation
in Europe, which he canceled abruptly,
stepping on a sharp rock
and tripping over his marriage.

After the night when my parents fought,
no one could find their way back home.

Today: A Ritual

 

Time-weathered bamboo stalk.

Time-weathered bamboo stalk.

 

 

Somewhere along our nightly rituals, my partner would kiss me and ask if I loved him today, which implies many undercurrents. Was I irritated with him, could there be something bothering me, or did I truly enjoy his presence in my life. Today.

“Yes. I love you. Today.” Or “I LOVE you today.”

Of course, some days: “No. Haven’t decided if I love you today” or just plain, “No. Not much.” On a white background, these words seem harsh, but it’s the tone and inside cue we’ve created to open up unpleasant conversations. I’m sure there are days when I’m not lovable either! (Very few though)

This dance reminds me to appreciate our love each day.

And once in a while, when you get an “I love you today and always”—Swoon. Love. Sigh.