First of all, you should all look to the right at my links and find Faye's name and click on it. Then you should read a stunning poem about rain. Second of all, it was fitting to read it today after jumping on the trampoline in the rain. Today I started to get into impatience mode after 30 minutes of driving home. The last 15 were less cool, even though Michael Buble was still playing (I've been listening to Sherry's CDs all week).
So I got home, washed my hands and immediately set about preparing supper, which wasn't ready until almost 7:30. It turned out pretty well although I subjected everyone to raised metabolisms again because while trying to pour ground pepper out of a plastic bag, too much fell out.
Mexican & Indian and I wore my sombrero, after I showered, dressed, and 'primped' in 7 minutes. And then I had to leave. It was hot and noisy in the house and I was still in overdrive despite feeling exhausted all morning from lack of sleep (poor decision? no). So I went outside to the trampoline. Yes (rolling eyes) on a full stomach. Does that make it harder? I don't know, I suspect when my stomach started to hurt it was because I'm not in shape, not because I was exercizing. As I recall the whole swimming after eating thing was a myth. Anyway, physical activity is fun, because you can press through when it hurts or when you get tired. I don't know if today's was fun though, as much as calming and emptying. Eventually I took a two minute break and lay down. And then a bird I've never heard before started calling, so I called back, until it wouldn't reply anymore. Then I started jumping again, until the rain started falling. Hooray! How joyous! I was even responsible enough to throw my shirt and sombrero in the house. I had been praying earlier, but more of a breathing cycle, poetic phrasing sort of prayer. The rain was good. It made the trampoline heavy. It left amusing design imprints when I would land on my stomach.
Sherry is home. She arrived Tuesday night. I was off by an hour. I heard the garage door open and jumped out of bed to look outside but saw Jamie's car and assumed it was him. It was not, which was actually what I couldn't help but lie there and suspect. So when there was a knock on my door I jumped out in a flash and threw on some pyjamas before throwing open the door and knocking Sherry out, and making her nose bleed profusely.
Just kidding.
I was a little excited and almost picked her up to throw her through the ceiling but she latched her legs around me and prevented the whole thing. So instead I settled for hugs and resettling 'the spot' in the kitchen, and her head beeing snugged under my chin, and space seizing embraces that say I want you closest.
And after 7 weeks without a glimpse, I was stunned again to see how vibrant she is. How much life her eyes emanate. How absolutely beautiful she is.
Earlier that evening Kirk was over and talked about the eventuality of finding a wife and why that's appealing. He spoke of the intimacy hoped for. The intimacy built on being best friends. Sure he has deep meaningful relationships now, but the time spent with those people is scattered. To have a best friend to grow together with... And I stopped short in amazement, because for years that's how my life has been. Weeks and weeks in between visits with friends though I love them all. But what sort of gift do I now have?
And so I end up praying prayers asking kindly that he would make me into the kind of man she deserves, and I'm sure there's R&B and country songs that do the same, but that's not why.
I learned how to say, "I love you, I miss you, I can't live without you. Come home." in French one evening with Pam and Damien. And when I finally had the chance I couldn't remember it because I didn't have it written down with me. Kind of like right now. Je t'aime, je monk. Je ne vitre pas something or another. I'll have to go downstairs and edit this later. Anyway, Sherry quipped that of course I could, since I had the whole time she was gone. But I didn't believe her. Because how can you say I lived without her when she's always there in my head. When every day I got off early seemed confusing because she wouldn't be home to say, "You're home early." When daily memories would still make me catch my breath.
Goodnight.
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