Stay

I'm feeling nervous and anxious about leaving town for a job next week, little sweetheart. It's only a couple hours away but they want me to live down there during rehearsals for the next few weeks. In the old days, I would've been excited to travel and have an adventure but now I've become such a homebody, little sweetheart. I just like to stay in here with your pictures all around me and do my work and think of you and say quiet prayers and sleep in our bed and hope you'll visit me in dreams, maybe finally taking me with you. So looking forward to that day! I don't wanna go anywhere, really, my love. Not without you. So, please be with me, won't you? Keep me focused and in the knowledge that whatever happens you and I will be together soon in the beautiful new place. And that I just need to be quiet and mindful and good.

You. Incomparable You.

I think sometimes as I tell people about you constantly- your beautiful spirit, your breathtaking talent, your enormous heart, your courageousness, your fierce intelligence, your deep and truthful soulfulness- I neglect to add, maybe for modesty's sake - your scorching incomparable hotness. However knockdown gorgeous you appear in photos or even video, it still can't fully convey how you could stop a man's heart at thirty paces walking into a room. Oh, dear god, sweetheart you remain the hottest little thing ever. And I do mean remain. My dear friend Isabel (who now that I think of it, reminds me in some ways of you - in her zest for life) has an abiding belief that we don't leave that sensual side of ourselves once we vacate our bodies. But that that energy, that sexual soulmate connection that we find with our True Love that shocks and shakes our very being with its intensity is still out there big time. And that when we find each other again in the Beautiful New Place it's gonna be there, only about a million times more intense. No one had ever articulated that to me before but I adore the idea. And I believe. I get it. Without getting too explicit, I have had, even in the depths of my grief, that kind of experience- sudden and shocking and could only be you flipping the switch- so I know it's out there. I know it's you. And I know we're not anywhere near done with this. Knock me down again, baby. Knock me down, again. Forever...

A Prayer on Labor Day

My little sweetheart, I feel as if I've been faltering and I just want to stop and be quiet and listen for you and feel your presence in my heart and all around me, as I know you'll come to my side if only I will just quiet myself. So, my darling, as I lay me down to sleep tonight with your things here, as ever, on your pillow beside me, I say a quiet prayer and vow to do better, to heed your ethereal whispered counsel as you speak to me in dreams and in language I can only now feel, not yet know, until that day you may take me where you are. I vow to do better, my little sweetheart. To be worthy of the great gifts of light and love you have unselfishly given me. I am so blessed. I cherish you, Summer. And love you with all my heart and soul. Forever, my love. Forever.

The Bikepath Mishap

So, little sweetheart, I've been recuperating after this breathtaking and inexplicable wipeout on the bike path along the Hudson several days ago and haven't yet told you the story. Your parents have been helping me from afar - I've been sending your dad pictures of my banged up mug and he's been advising me with his medical expertise. Your mom told me a great story about how you nursed her back to health once by bringing her pineapple slices which you somehow knew was just the thing. "Those enzymes" you told her "are great for stimulating circulation and healing bruises". 

You're amazing, little sweetheart! You know so much about so many things. And here you are again helping me by having helped your mom with this news once before! So, naturally, I've been having pineapple slices every day just like you would tell me to.

So... I don't know exactly how this fall came to be so bad. I was on my morning run along the Hudson. Almost done, actually, I guess I really went flying. Tripping or turning an ankle over uneven pavement or (as in this case) some knotty tree root, usually sends one stumbling for a few paces, trying to right ship and regain balance or at the worst, fall with hands splayed in front. But somehow this sent me flying and right onto my face. My sunglasses broke, shattering upon impact  (I think that had something to do with the cuts) and I hit my head. 

It was all very dramatic. I was veering off the paved path onto a patch of grass but it's uneven and around some trees. There was a lot of blood and dirt. I got up and saw the blood, so I checked to make sure my nose wasn't broken. And it felt okay. But there wasn't any water around. 

I went looking for a drinking fountain and this nice, horrified tourist couple - he (Michael) from London and she (Sabina) from Denmark walked back to the little riverside cafe at the pedestrian pier and got their first aid kit (which had nothing terribly useful) and entry to the restroom and I got cleaned up. They were so very kind, sweetheart, you would like them. I suspect you probably sent them, didn't you, my little angel?

I still had to get home so I finished my run. My neighbor had some alcohol (I thought I did - I remember the last time I had it out - you used a bottle to stretch out some new boots you had here, my love - more Summer know-how!) but I couldn't find it. 

I called my doctor but he couldn't see me until the next morning. I didn't feature going to the ER and I remembered there are these little walk in places here now called City MD. Jason went to one a few weeks ago when he banged his head at work and cut himself. It's BPX injury season, apparently. 

Anyway, they irrigated everything and I didn't need stitches. One place on my forehead needed "glue". The rest, however ugly, are "superficial", they said. They put sterile strips over all that and band aids over the sterile strips. They said it was okay to change the band aids but to leave the sterile strips - they'll come off on their own when it's time, reportedly. They also gave me a prescription for antibiotic to take for 7 days, so I began looking to that - one week - as my healing target. But it's taken a while longer. I'm 12 days out now and it's finally starting to look like my face again. Gah... 

Anyway, the thing about all this that I wanted to tell you was that I managed to keep very calm and have a good attitude about it all - at least that day when it all happened, since then I've been in hiding mostly. Ha! But that day, I remained in good spirits- friendly, optimistic - and very diligently went about seeking treatment. 

I can only attribute that to your perennial presence, my darling. Both the example you gave me in everything we ever encountered together and in the way I know you continue to watch over and guide me, if I only listen closely and heed your heavenly counsel. Thank you, my love. Thank you, my angel. Thank you, my little sweetheart.