Patchwork Heart
If I am made from of all people I've loved, this quilt was here before I ever was born.
I was but a speck on God’s horizon and the frame of my quilt already here.
If we are to talk of love we must talk from all the beginnings. And there is never just one.
I used to think that I loved too loudly. Now, I know it was only a small yawn in comparison to the love I have received in return.
Late night phone calls, whispers of comfort, showing up in the middle of the night, in the middle of their day to help me, when I was a puddle of melancholy on the floor. Celebrating my little victories and the very, very big ones too. What is this if not love sewn together making my patchwork heart beat.
I think the rest of my life will be loving them back in return, will be making their quilt so colorful, so bold, so full, they will feel this warmth for the rest of their days.
The Unbearable Weight of Sex (10/4/2024)
François Moreau, though two seconds from ejaculating, had descended into the throes of indecision and self-loathing. The idea of bringing new life into this cruel and dying world tormented him beyond measure, but he knew that if he pulled out now, he would forever lose the only woman he had ever truly loved.
“Am I Like Them?”
“You’re so much like them,” I hear for the dozenth time. I smile and nod politely, even though all I want to do is scream.
I am nothing like my parents! I want to shout. I am against everything they ever stood for! I am their polar opposite!
Except I’m not. Hard as I try, I can’t escape the things I inherited from them. It’s more than just my mom’s red hair and my dad’s pointed nose. It’s my dad’s temper, and my mom’s tendency to reach for a drink the minute things get a little challenging. It’s my dad’s need to be right and my mom’s refusal to acknowledge when there’s a problem. These are the characteristics that I’ve defined them by, and these are the traits that I wrestle with every day.
The outside world never saw any of it, but I did. Growing up, I had to listen as my dad screamed at us; I had to watch as my mom reached for that bottle. I felt the impacts of my dad’s stubbornness and my mom’s denial. They’ve passed on their traits to me, but they’ve also shown me how those traits can hurt others. And I plan to do everything I can to be different.
I can’t eliminate my temper, but I can go to therapy and learn how to deal with anger in healthy ways. I can never be free from the temptation to take a drink when things get rough, but I can learn to face my problems head-on and ask for help when it’s more than I can handle.
And I can surround myself with people who make me better.
I loved my parents. I still do, but now I have people in my life who have shown me how to treat the people I love better.
I may never be able to leave behind the imprints my parents have on me, but maybe, if I learn from others, the things I inherited from my parents will just be small pieces within the patchwork of my life – integral to who I am, but no more important or noticeable than any other. And maybe even less so.
Still....
That most special day, has arrived and come
To mark our long lives spent together as one.
In truth, I am alone but not lonely -
As you’re so aware of because you've known me.
I have an array of memories most brilliant,
Large as the universe, powerfully resilient,
Bathed in the realm of an excess of waters,
To offer comfort in the shelter of love’s quarter.
Still….
It’s you, resplendent in the flesh and renewed,
For whom my heart pines, you as I once knew;
It’s you my hand reaches to find in the darkness
In lieu of the feel of the space’s empty harshness;
It’s you for whom I look both ways
In hopes you’ve returned and come to stay;
It’s your laughter I want to drift 'cross the air -
Would be the answer to a most fervent prayer;
It’s your sweet sound of voice, so near and so clear
That I long to hear when you call me your dear;
It’s your face I miss and look for once more,
When first I awaken, just like always before.
Still….
Your soul reaches out, ever present in design
Linked together, unerringly, always with mine
Despite the ache of loss created by the distance
Nothing can deny your depth of existence.
Lingering remnants of our shared days,
Serve well to remind me of love’s strong felt ways.
Still….
I’ll look for you despite all the scars,
In the dark evening's brightest stars,
In the moonlight’s beams near and so far,
In days most resplendent in healthy sunshine,
In flowers that grow in our garden divine,
In each clap of thunder and each drop of rain,
In the laughter of children that can’t be contained,
In the presence of loved ones and all whom we know,
In the plants that you watered, I’ll see our love grow,
In the face of adversity and all we did swear,
In the song of the cardinal rippling through the air,
In the path of the dragonfly’s fluttered flight,
In the dark of each persistent and quiet night,
In the stillness of each new day’s silence,
In the ways you'll find to offer your guidance.
Still….
I’ll seek you always in the depth of my heart
In the crux of my soul though now we're apart
We’ve always lived as one being from the start -
A picture of love beyond death‘s our finest art -
Two splendid souls, merged for all time, never to part.
Still....