Tuesday, 6 December 2005 [8:30 p.m.]:
Hi, hon.Every day your hat smells less and less of cigarettes and more and more like you. I didn’t realise how sad that having it would make me. At first it was an awful symbol of the fact that you had gone, then it turned into a proud statement of the meaning you ascribed to me in your life but now, I am afraid, it is making me terribly, terribly sad and I am missing you so. There are so many jerks in the world! And you were evidence that not everybody was and that someone so wonderful could actually, even in a small way, love me back. I think you haven’t been celebrated like you should have but I think that I have an idea of why your family is behaving in the way that they are. So I have to let it go.
There are so many people saying that I can’t "do" the Skeena. But I hear your voice over it all saying "You can never fail if you never quit" and I know that you are right. I have your pictures around me, I have your words in my album, and I have, right this minute, your hat on my head. I always tried to protect you and right now I need you to protect me a bit. But, this time last year we were happy, weren’t we? Like two dumb kids that didn’t know any better we didn’t see the storm that was brewing on the horizon.
I have to get my a$$ in gear – I haven’t worked at my lit review in awhile. I also haven’t worked with my maps – trying to update them (some go back as far as 1985!) using Google Earth. You’d *love* it, honey, it is just so cool. It would have been neat if you could have taken a screenshot of your place in 108 and I’d have it to match up with what’s on the ground ‘cuz when I’m there I really want to go and take a photo of the front of your place (all those pictures of the back and none of the front – LOL!). I want to see the drive you shovelled and the one you shovelled for your neighbour – there you were, so close to the end of you life and you were shovelling somebody else’s snow. (God damn it, I am crying so hard that I can’t see the keys at all.)
You have been gone almost ten months and I am crying like a baby for you. I cannot for the life of me understand what happened. And I will *never* understand why none of the plans that we made worked out. There are only a few things that I know for sure: that I loved you completely and absolutely, that you were the best thing that ever happened to me, that sometimes I made you very, very happy, that you taught me a whole new way to look at the world and to look at myself, that while I gave you many tangible gifts, you gave me gifts of the spirit and gifts that will live inside me forever. Again, all I can do is to thank you.
Honey, I am going to work with the maps or have a look at Tim Winton’s new book – every time I try to talk to you here, I just keep crying.
BTW: I hope Don is OK and that he’ll have a good Christmas. What a steadfast friend he is!
‘bye, hon, I’ll try not to cry next time but this weekend was soooo bad what with what happened with Jack and Terry F and Ross that I am just strung out completely. These jerks have no idea what sort of person they are getting measured by and there is no way in the world that most of these ordinary guys can ever measure up.
Love you –
- Susan
P.S.: One of the guys from FAOL, Biote Midge I think, is looking for a fly that you made and you guys traded. He asked for my address to send it to me if he finds it. Won’t that be *so* cool??? Honey, some of your friends and acquaintances are so nice.
posted by Susan @ 9:20 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home