I write to you this morning from a sunspot behind the window at the 41 homestead, my only home which remains a place where I will again eagerly return. Beyond the sparkletasthic rays that explode from the glass, the ground is white and icy. The trees shoot to the sky like cupids arrows straight into the heart of God. And my Nana, my Papa, my Da, my lost love. I hope there is a gated sanctuary, and that they can see me all kittened up in my warm place. I hope that there is something beyond all of this, I am just not convinced that anything can surpass the perfection of all this beautiful madness and tedious yearning. Jesus I am in a state...
My wife, who always knows how to handle/manage me, has been feeding my soul and my liver. She has ordered up the Irish whiskey as is if it is water and I am desert dehydrated. She gets the drought of my spirit better than anyone - championed the wrongness of my invisibleness - understands more than she did before even, why she can NEVER ignore my calls. Even if on my behalf, defense, wonderment. I love her for the mothering - I would be no where, the sun would seek me out lonely, a childless Mother and a barren garden.
Instead I am safe, even though my old life has ended. The prologue to the bird cage door unlocking.
My Nana was lowered into the ground yesterday, I sat in the car plot side and watched as the men unfurled the straps of my life. She disappeared below the hard frozen earth and Debbie went with her, into the endless dark.
I am okay - I am relieved. Her suffering has ceased, the fear is gone from the amber - in the wake, the flecks of the frozen past can shine again - the pain and beauty has beat out the fear in the end.
I thank her God for that - her beautitudes are earned and worthy.
I am watching Adele live in concert - the tone of her voice sings of truth and a scrappers inclination. It feels right right now, like Gumption is in full force atmospherically speaking.
You gotta ultimately know your own name and go your own way - regardless of doubters persecution.
I am grateful today that if nothing else, I have been PRESENT in every waking moment of this life.
When I was drowning, I let the water rush into my lungs, let it steal my breath before fighting to surface and breathe again.
I have let this life have it's way with me, like a lover helpless to her partners divinity.
Back arched, eyes in the back of my head, limp the stiff - I have let it all have me.
I am thankful for that and thankful that I know my own name in the morning.
Mary said yesterday, I speak in tongues.
Proof positive.
Some of you will get me and some of you will say "what the fuck is she talking about?"
I love when I squint into the sun and blink and perfect circle rainbows dance in time to the music.
A miracle of my moment.
I went to my childhood home yesterday, I ran the steps as I used to - fuck the owners, I refuse to ask to climb the steps of the house that built me.
As I came down on the bottom, I realized that there are seven steps. Six wood and one concrete.
seven...
I always jumped off the bottom, two footed land.
I will miss that dismount for the remainder of the flight.
Adele is singing a song she wrote for her best friend - funny, Mary can tell me I am Scarlet O'Hara but she'll still heat the buckwheat, even if while disapprovingly scowling.
Because of her the sun will never miss me.
I have more to say, but my head just shut off. I thought of Bob Selph's salt and pepper hair and brown eyes and smiled.
I think I will sink and succumb.
Love to you all.
