In Memories...

Little sweetheart, a video of "Transatlanticism", that I posted on FB with the caption "I need you so much closer", came up as a "memory" today. 

From 2009, I suspect the date corresponds with having come back to NYC for jury duty on July 1 and staying on because Wilson Milam asked me to do a play here with him. 

DCfC was an important band to us, wasn't it, my love? You turned me on to them and they became a big part of our musical life. You took me to see them in Sacramento on my birthday that year. We held each other and swayed and cried to the music. I sang the chorus of this over and over to you on the phone more than once and probably did this very day. 

Being apart is so hard. And I once figured out that even tho' we sometimes were, three weeks was the longest we ever were. Always with plans, always knowing we'd be together soon and exactly when. A promise. And even tho' being apart is hard, I always woke with such a feeling of well-being knowing that you were in the world and in my life, even if apart, no farther than a plane ride, a phone call, a text away, and that in a matter of hours I would hear from you. 

It's so much harder now to hold on to that feeling. But I know somehow that you are much closer than I can imagine. I woke today with the thought, "what do I do with all this time I don't want, all this time without you?" I think you're reminding me. It won't be long. Just hang on and do the best I can, right, little sweetheart? Listen for you. Oh, my love. I do. I need you so much closer. (so, come on, come on...) 

With all my love.

Self-Evident Truths

I'm been ensconced in jury duty all week, little sweetheart. I was telling you a little while ago how it was bringing up such strong memories because the last time I was called, I had to come all the way back from NorCal and your side to be here and serve. I think, fingers crossed, now into Day Three, we may be excused by afternoon’s end.

One of the things that you have to do, of course, is write down your occupation and then, if asked questions in voir dire, elaborate. I haven’t gotten that far yet but it has made me wonder how I might answer. What kind of a writer am I, they might ask. Without delving into more-information-than-needed territory, how can I truly answer that? And I mean truly. Because nothing is true without you. Nothing is true in my life unless you are at its center, unless it - whatever endeavor set out upon - is led by your shining spirit.

I might say that I once wrote primarily for the theatre, but why even begin with that? I think it best, if asked, to say that I’ve been a writer and composer all my adult life and that five years ago I lost the love of my life, my partner and soulmate. That she, that you, passed away after a tragic accident and that ever since, I’ve been writing and composing works of music and narrative of, for and about you, released and published with proceeds marked for the memorial fund in your name at the University of Minnesota’s Medical Foundation. That the works are meant to be performed in quiet, beautiful, sometimes sacred spaces. That, formerly a writer of primarily theatre works, this was now my vocation and calling - to dedicate my life and work to her, to you, my late-girlfriend, Summer, the incandescent, generous, miracle who filled my life with light and love and the faith that she is safely in the care of The Divine, where I will one day join her, soon and forever.

I guess that’s a bit of a mouthful. I suppose one of the attorneys might cry out “objection!” or the judge gavel me out of order, but it’s the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, my little sweetheart. Perhaps even, I hope, a quite self-evident one. You are my light and life. Any other description of who I “am” is - to use the legal term - irrelevant.

At my best, and may I always strive to be just that, my devotion is to you. In all things. We hold these truths to be self-evident. Love you forever.