Little sweetheart, I sometimes wonder if mornings will ever ache less than they do and have every single morning since your tragic passing. I open my eyes and simply despair each day. I try to quiet myself and say our prayer and then turn to your side of the bed and quietly talk to you, softly touching your things there. Telling you how much I love you and asking you to be with me and take me to you as soon as heaven will allow.
Every morning I say these words to you, that I don't like it here without you and only want to be with you. This morning, even before those words, I found myself saying this: "nothing works and everything hurts".
So very often, little sweetheart, I simply don't know what to do. But I say our prayer and kiss your pictures good morning and make coffee and try to go about the day - writing for you, writing about you, writing to you. Working on the new album. This morning I also wrote a letter to your mom. I bought her a book I know she wants. I got it yesterday at The Strand and I'm sending it all off to her this afternoon.
I'll do my work and little errands and go for a run and make myself dinner and fall away to sleep again tonight. I just wish you would come for me in my sleep and take me to you. I don't like it here without you. I don't like it here at all. I miss and need and long for you. Please, please come soon.
With all my love forever.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Monday, August 28, 2017
Just an Hiatus
Little sweetheart, walking home yesterday I saw this sign about a class being on break over the season. "On Summer Hiatus" it said. And that's how I should think of this, too, isn't it, my love? You're just a little ways away. We're just a heartbeat apart. It's just a Summer Hiatus. And I'll be with you soon, again and forever in just the blink of an eye. Isn't that right? I just need to quiet myself and do good things while I'm waiting, things that will make you proud of me and keep your spirit close. And soon, so very soon, I'll be back at your side. Isn't that so, my darling? With all my love forever.
Sunday, August 27, 2017
God Bless Your Soul
Little sweetheart, this morning on the way to that little church I’ve told you about, I found a pretty little bird passed away on the middle of the sidewalk. It was up around W.71st Street on West End Avenue. A lot of people were out with their kids and strollers and dogs and I walked past at first because I was late. But I turned back about a block later.
I found a soft little piece of wax paper and carefully picked him up. He didn’t look injured or hurt at all. His feathers were still very beautiful. It was almost as if he were sleeping. Anyway, I gently picked him up and carried him over to an nearby flower bed. And I found myself saving quietly “God bless your soul.”
And that’s right, isn’t it, little sweetheart? We’re all God’s creatures, aren't we? The lovely birds that sing so sweetly and remind me you are nearer than I can imagine, they are among us and souled as as we.
God bless your soul, my darling. And God bless the soul of our little friend, I hope he sings to you today in The Forever. And I hope you might take me to you just as soon as heaven will allow.
With all my love forever.
I found a soft little piece of wax paper and carefully picked him up. He didn’t look injured or hurt at all. His feathers were still very beautiful. It was almost as if he were sleeping. Anyway, I gently picked him up and carried him over to an nearby flower bed. And I found myself saving quietly “God bless your soul.”
And that’s right, isn’t it, little sweetheart? We’re all God’s creatures, aren't we? The lovely birds that sing so sweetly and remind me you are nearer than I can imagine, they are among us and souled as as we.
God bless your soul, my darling. And God bless the soul of our little friend, I hope he sings to you today in The Forever. And I hope you might take me to you just as soon as heaven will allow.
With all my love forever.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Driving Dream
Another dream last night, little sweetheart, that I begin both to recognize as recurrent and understand what it meant to tell me.
You and I are together in a big car, like an SUV, like the Rendezvous, perhaps. I’m driving but we’re both in the back. Like all the way in the back in the third seat. As far away from the steering wheel and brakes and accelerator as one can get and still be inside the car. We’re driving or I’m driving and you’re riding next to me and we’re hurtling along. And not like on some easy, abandoned stretch of road. We’re on a highway or the freeway with lots of traffic and we’re going fast.
I realize that this is a recurring dream not only because I just told you about another one similar to it when I dreamt I was with your brother Jesse, but because it’s an anxiety that is familiar from other dreams. I realize I have it a lot - driving at high speed impaired either because I can’t see where I’m going or because, like this, I’m far away from the wheel. It’s really a familiar anxiety. One of those that comes from dreams and still has you wound up after you wake but forgotten and unnamed.
Anyway, we’re speeding down the freeway and I’m feeling out of control and wondering how I got here, reaching over the seats to steer but afraid I’ll have to let go to actually move up and sit in front. And you’re at my side in the back but not at all worried. You’re quite calm. And that’s helping me.
Which is something I remember and recognize about being with you in life. Not that you never got upset or we never argued or something but just in the important times you were always there helping me. And in another thousand circumstances where I’d immediately start tensing up because anybody else I’d ever known would start yelling at me or blaming or something, you wouldn’t. You’d help and not get upset. You were kind and supportive and just with me when things mattered most. Unlike the others - everyone of them with one foot out the door at all times and ever keen to remind me - yours was not a fickle love.
And in the dream, your calm demeanor is what helped me, helped us. Presently, we were approaching a fork in the highway where we had to either continue on or veer off on an exit ramp. You thought we should make the turn, so that’s what we did, we took the exit ramp. And somehow we wound up inside the subway. Like drove down the stairs and onto the platform. Drove where cars aren’t supposed to be.
There was a a policeman on the platform but he wasn’t angry with us. He just directed us to turn left and we wound up in a much bigger expanse - like a concourse. Kind of like Grand Central but I think we were actually in Boston. Maybe it was the concourse at South Station.
We’d slowed down by then, just crawling along as if we were looking for a place to park. Not out of control or anything. And nobody seemed too bothered. Then you very calmly asked if we could stop so you could get us something to eat. I think maybe you’d seen a place that had frozen yogurt. Ha! So very like you, my little sweetheart. I pulled over and you said you’d bring me back something.
So, I waited for you. And now I see that’s the other part. What I’m supposed to understand.
It’s all about faith. Even when I’m hurtling through life feeling lost and out of control because I don’t have you here to help and guide and direct me, I just need to listen. Because you are here. Closer than I can imagine. Even if I can’t see or control things, you are near, you are at my side if I just quiet myself, I’ll hear you. And you are calm and with me and guiding me safely where I , where we, need to go. And if I just wait patiently like you told me to, you’ll be back in just a minute with something good for us both that we can share. I don’t have to worry. I just need to have faith. I just need like always to believe in you. And I do.
You and I are together in a big car, like an SUV, like the Rendezvous, perhaps. I’m driving but we’re both in the back. Like all the way in the back in the third seat. As far away from the steering wheel and brakes and accelerator as one can get and still be inside the car. We’re driving or I’m driving and you’re riding next to me and we’re hurtling along. And not like on some easy, abandoned stretch of road. We’re on a highway or the freeway with lots of traffic and we’re going fast.
I realize that this is a recurring dream not only because I just told you about another one similar to it when I dreamt I was with your brother Jesse, but because it’s an anxiety that is familiar from other dreams. I realize I have it a lot - driving at high speed impaired either because I can’t see where I’m going or because, like this, I’m far away from the wheel. It’s really a familiar anxiety. One of those that comes from dreams and still has you wound up after you wake but forgotten and unnamed.
Anyway, we’re speeding down the freeway and I’m feeling out of control and wondering how I got here, reaching over the seats to steer but afraid I’ll have to let go to actually move up and sit in front. And you’re at my side in the back but not at all worried. You’re quite calm. And that’s helping me.
Which is something I remember and recognize about being with you in life. Not that you never got upset or we never argued or something but just in the important times you were always there helping me. And in another thousand circumstances where I’d immediately start tensing up because anybody else I’d ever known would start yelling at me or blaming or something, you wouldn’t. You’d help and not get upset. You were kind and supportive and just with me when things mattered most. Unlike the others - everyone of them with one foot out the door at all times and ever keen to remind me - yours was not a fickle love.
And in the dream, your calm demeanor is what helped me, helped us. Presently, we were approaching a fork in the highway where we had to either continue on or veer off on an exit ramp. You thought we should make the turn, so that’s what we did, we took the exit ramp. And somehow we wound up inside the subway. Like drove down the stairs and onto the platform. Drove where cars aren’t supposed to be.
There was a a policeman on the platform but he wasn’t angry with us. He just directed us to turn left and we wound up in a much bigger expanse - like a concourse. Kind of like Grand Central but I think we were actually in Boston. Maybe it was the concourse at South Station.
We’d slowed down by then, just crawling along as if we were looking for a place to park. Not out of control or anything. And nobody seemed too bothered. Then you very calmly asked if we could stop so you could get us something to eat. I think maybe you’d seen a place that had frozen yogurt. Ha! So very like you, my little sweetheart. I pulled over and you said you’d bring me back something.
So, I waited for you. And now I see that’s the other part. What I’m supposed to understand.
It’s all about faith. Even when I’m hurtling through life feeling lost and out of control because I don’t have you here to help and guide and direct me, I just need to listen. Because you are here. Closer than I can imagine. Even if I can’t see or control things, you are near, you are at my side if I just quiet myself, I’ll hear you. And you are calm and with me and guiding me safely where I , where we, need to go. And if I just wait patiently like you told me to, you’ll be back in just a minute with something good for us both that we can share. I don’t have to worry. I just need to have faith. I just need like always to believe in you. And I do.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
Surprise!
Little sweetheart, I just saw this picture of us in London, last night of our first visit there together.
I had to meet up with some RADA folks and you were meeting me back in Kentish Town at The Boston Arms. I called you on my English cellphone just before I got on the Tube. Although you weren't much a drinker, usually, that night you were already a couple of cocktails in and finding yourself very popular, you told me, with the regulars, mostly silver haired Irish pensioners. You commandeered a booth and this is how you greeted me. With our hosts, we made something of a night of it, winding up later at The Star, remember?
Help me find my way to where you are, won't you, little sweetheart? Save me a seat next to you. Love you forever.
I had to meet up with some RADA folks and you were meeting me back in Kentish Town at The Boston Arms. I called you on my English cellphone just before I got on the Tube. Although you weren't much a drinker, usually, that night you were already a couple of cocktails in and finding yourself very popular, you told me, with the regulars, mostly silver haired Irish pensioners. You commandeered a booth and this is how you greeted me. With our hosts, we made something of a night of it, winding up later at The Star, remember?
Help me find my way to where you are, won't you, little sweetheart? Save me a seat next to you. Love you forever.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Your Mom's Birthday
Today is your Mom’s birthday, little sweetheart. I have it circled on the calendar and I think it’s very likely that I am more excited about it than she.
I love your parents, little sweetheart. They are so very dear to me. And I think doubly so because when I do things for them it reminds me of the joy I had in doing little things for you. Cooking for you or surprising you with a gift. Maybe noticing how some little something caught your eye and making a note of it so I could get it and give it to you right away.
There’s a beautiful catalogue that your Mom has gotten for years and that I saw early on when I was visiting them quite a while ago. I got myself on their mailing list and I often look for things there I think she might like. It’s a kind of vintage Victorian sundries catalogue filled with little antiquities and beautiful prints here all the girls look like you as if you’d just stepped out of the late 1800’s.
I got her what looks to be a pretty painting of a kind of angel/siren keeping watch on a distant shore, a lute by her side. And it’s also lighted - it has a little lamp behind the canvas. I also got her a DVD of that movie I told you about, that documentary about Peter Bogdanovich. And I found a beautiful card, a New Yorker cover that’s an illustration of a girl whose red tresses are a kaleidoscope of monarch butterflies. It’s magical and so very much looks like you. So does the angel, of course. I wrote her a long letter, too and put it inside. And there’s a lovely company I found called Bake Me A Wish, that makes and delivered birthday cakes via UPS overnight packed in dry ice to keep them fresh. If I’m not in California to make your parents a cake on their birthday, I always send one - chocolate for your dad, vanilla bean, like this one, for your mom.
I’m going to give her call in an hour or so after I know she’s around and sing her Happy Birthday.
All these things make me feel so very close to you, my love. You are Goodness itself and when I act in kindness and love I feel your presence double fold. All redounds to you. With all my love forever.
I love your parents, little sweetheart. They are so very dear to me. And I think doubly so because when I do things for them it reminds me of the joy I had in doing little things for you. Cooking for you or surprising you with a gift. Maybe noticing how some little something caught your eye and making a note of it so I could get it and give it to you right away.
There’s a beautiful catalogue that your Mom has gotten for years and that I saw early on when I was visiting them quite a while ago. I got myself on their mailing list and I often look for things there I think she might like. It’s a kind of vintage Victorian sundries catalogue filled with little antiquities and beautiful prints here all the girls look like you as if you’d just stepped out of the late 1800’s.
I got her what looks to be a pretty painting of a kind of angel/siren keeping watch on a distant shore, a lute by her side. And it’s also lighted - it has a little lamp behind the canvas. I also got her a DVD of that movie I told you about, that documentary about Peter Bogdanovich. And I found a beautiful card, a New Yorker cover that’s an illustration of a girl whose red tresses are a kaleidoscope of monarch butterflies. It’s magical and so very much looks like you. So does the angel, of course. I wrote her a long letter, too and put it inside. And there’s a lovely company I found called Bake Me A Wish, that makes and delivered birthday cakes via UPS overnight packed in dry ice to keep them fresh. If I’m not in California to make your parents a cake on their birthday, I always send one - chocolate for your dad, vanilla bean, like this one, for your mom.
I’m going to give her call in an hour or so after I know she’s around and sing her Happy Birthday.
All these things make me feel so very close to you, my love. You are Goodness itself and when I act in kindness and love I feel your presence double fold. All redounds to you. With all my love forever.
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
Lost
Little sweetheart, I’m running aground again. So badly. So badly, I couldn’t even speak of it until now when I think, I hope, I’m finally turning a corner.
Sometimes, my darling, I’m just plunged into despair. Even, maybe especially, in moments when just before I seemed to have gotten myself together. I’m not drinking or about to hurt myself but I just lapse into other, slightly less mortal but altogether unhappy habits, simply out of loneliness and emptiness and a feeling there’s no where it turn.
And I know that’s not true! In my better moments, I do know exactly where to turn - to you. To simply quiet myself and listen. You’ll find me there, won’t you?
Please help me to remember that, little sweetheart. Please help me to go on past the darkest moments when I’m so overwhelmed by my grief and solitude and hopelessness and to know it’s okay to feel this awful because it is awful. But it’s not the end. You stand at the other side of this divide and will catch me when I fall. I just need to push through, have faith.
It’s hard. It’s supposed to be hard. How could it not be?! But your shining soul, your infinite goodness remains. Please help me remember that, little sweetheart. Even if I need to crumple in a heap to the floor and lay there weeping, help me to pass through, feeling all of it, to the other side and find you. You are my light. I love you with all my heart and soul.
Please help me to do better. For you. For us both. With all my love forever. Unto The Forever…
Sometimes, my darling, I’m just plunged into despair. Even, maybe especially, in moments when just before I seemed to have gotten myself together. I’m not drinking or about to hurt myself but I just lapse into other, slightly less mortal but altogether unhappy habits, simply out of loneliness and emptiness and a feeling there’s no where it turn.
And I know that’s not true! In my better moments, I do know exactly where to turn - to you. To simply quiet myself and listen. You’ll find me there, won’t you?
Please help me to remember that, little sweetheart. Please help me to go on past the darkest moments when I’m so overwhelmed by my grief and solitude and hopelessness and to know it’s okay to feel this awful because it is awful. But it’s not the end. You stand at the other side of this divide and will catch me when I fall. I just need to push through, have faith.
It’s hard. It’s supposed to be hard. How could it not be?! But your shining soul, your infinite goodness remains. Please help me remember that, little sweetheart. Even if I need to crumple in a heap to the floor and lay there weeping, help me to pass through, feeling all of it, to the other side and find you. You are my light. I love you with all my heart and soul.
Please help me to do better. For you. For us both. With all my love forever. Unto The Forever…
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Running Out of Pens
Little sweetheart, the last thing I want to do is jinx this by speaking of it too soon but I’ve been on a writing jag, of late. That’s why I’ve been posting here slightly less frequently the last week or two. I’ve actually been writing of and to you even more, not less! Just all in a torrent that is finally breaking through. I had to be more notebooks and I keep running out of pens. It’s a good feeling but there’s lots of work to do. There are worries that this work will kill me but I’m ready to go anytime. I know the euphoria may well turn to despair. I love feeling so close to you and remembering things but know from experience how those feelings can turn into a riptide, undertow of grief in the blink of an eye. I know those moments will come and I will have to lay down and take them. But please help me to rise and again, after, and to have the courage to continue. Please be with me, my darling. Please help me to honor and conjure you. And take me to you the moment Heaven will allow.
Sunday, August 6, 2017
Just Like Waiting For The Bus...
Little sweetheart, it's a new month. I guess it has been all week.
I'm trying my best to be quiet and listen for you. I know you try to find and comfort and encourage me in every way you can and know how. It's hard because you are eternal and I'm still stuck in the mortal world. I say it every morning when I wake - I don't like it here without you, please take me to you. I just want to pass through death to the other side and be with you always.
While I'm here, I just want to honor and feel as close as possible now to you. Remember I told you after my mom died - I remember exactly where we were, I was driving her car up the big hill in the little town where she had lived, to pick up the suit and dress you and I had brought for her funeral - I told you that with my mom now gone, I knew that I had, more than anything, to be with you as much as possible. However that needed to be, even if it was flying out to see you every weekend (like a congressman going home to his district) until you could move to New York. Whatever it might be, I needed to be near you, with you, now, always. It just seems the cruelest thing that only ten months later, you too passed.
Little sweetheart, it's a new month. I don't want any more time on this earth without you. But if I must be here, if I must wait, then I want to use the time as best I can and in a way that pleases and makes you proud.
I've been working both on the book and on the new album. The last week or so I've been mostly tracking bass on the songs and adding some other guitar and vocal parts, but mostly I'm in the bass phase. This computer is getting full. I need to upgrade its hard drive, so I'm trying to get to a place with progress on the album that I can be okay leaving off for a week while the MacBook Pro is in the shop getting the upgrade. I bought a keyboard for my iPad, so that during that week, probably this coming one, I can turn my full attention to the book and type up the entire chapter I've just written out by hand in my notebook, filling it. I'll also burn playlists to disc of the album in progress, so that I can work out and practice more vocal and instrumental parts, so I'm ready to resume recording when I get the laptop back.
Please help and be with me, won't you, my darling? I need you more than ever. And if it's time to fly to you - perfect! All this is just to keep me doing the right thing while I wait for you. I thought about it the other day when I was out for a walk. I said it aloud (I talk to myself a lot now and also to you): I just need to think of my life now as if I'm simply waiting for the bus. The bus that will take me to you. It'll be here soon enough. I needn't get anxious or upset. I need to just wait patiently and know you will come for me.
While I wait, these are some good things to do, I think. Let me know, won't you little sweetheart? Let me know your will so that I might follow. Always. Always. With all my love forever.
I'm trying my best to be quiet and listen for you. I know you try to find and comfort and encourage me in every way you can and know how. It's hard because you are eternal and I'm still stuck in the mortal world. I say it every morning when I wake - I don't like it here without you, please take me to you. I just want to pass through death to the other side and be with you always.
While I'm here, I just want to honor and feel as close as possible now to you. Remember I told you after my mom died - I remember exactly where we were, I was driving her car up the big hill in the little town where she had lived, to pick up the suit and dress you and I had brought for her funeral - I told you that with my mom now gone, I knew that I had, more than anything, to be with you as much as possible. However that needed to be, even if it was flying out to see you every weekend (like a congressman going home to his district) until you could move to New York. Whatever it might be, I needed to be near you, with you, now, always. It just seems the cruelest thing that only ten months later, you too passed.
Little sweetheart, it's a new month. I don't want any more time on this earth without you. But if I must be here, if I must wait, then I want to use the time as best I can and in a way that pleases and makes you proud.
I've been working both on the book and on the new album. The last week or so I've been mostly tracking bass on the songs and adding some other guitar and vocal parts, but mostly I'm in the bass phase. This computer is getting full. I need to upgrade its hard drive, so I'm trying to get to a place with progress on the album that I can be okay leaving off for a week while the MacBook Pro is in the shop getting the upgrade. I bought a keyboard for my iPad, so that during that week, probably this coming one, I can turn my full attention to the book and type up the entire chapter I've just written out by hand in my notebook, filling it. I'll also burn playlists to disc of the album in progress, so that I can work out and practice more vocal and instrumental parts, so I'm ready to resume recording when I get the laptop back.
Please help and be with me, won't you, my darling? I need you more than ever. And if it's time to fly to you - perfect! All this is just to keep me doing the right thing while I wait for you. I thought about it the other day when I was out for a walk. I said it aloud (I talk to myself a lot now and also to you): I just need to think of my life now as if I'm simply waiting for the bus. The bus that will take me to you. It'll be here soon enough. I needn't get anxious or upset. I need to just wait patiently and know you will come for me.
While I wait, these are some good things to do, I think. Let me know, won't you little sweetheart? Let me know your will so that I might follow. Always. Always. With all my love forever.
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