quiet desperation

i want to go home. i think maybe he doesn't know where i am. i know others have written or spoken of "feeling him (her) around." i haven't had anything close to something that distinct. i'm not sure of anything anymore. so i want to go home. i want to lie down tonight and close my eyes and wake up and be in his arms at home. the only home i've ever known was with him.

where we lived in Rockport, we were so lucky. if you click on the above photo and let it get larger for you, past the harbor entrance to the right, just to the left of the Headlands, there. right there you'll catch a glimpse of our island.

i chose that photo because that's all i have these days, a glimpse of the island that held our attention, our vigil, our dreams and fantasies for so long. i tell myself, "tonight you'll go to the island and be with him." but my subconscious is kicking me in the ass. it won't do what i say.

i want to go home and this hasn't happened. i want him back.

i saw the trailer on television for this movie, "The Lovely Bones." i read the book a long time ago. i don't think the movie is going to be like the book at all. they feel their daughter. she helps them. my Dragon, well, i am so receptive to any sign, any little clue of his presence beyond meeting my bills, getting to eat a couple of times a day, beyond the immense blessing of getting to go to San Diego in August, beyond being allowed to make the quilts to help people heal. maybe i'm being greedy and that's why i can't feel his breath, or smell his morning coffee.

maybe it's because he's never been here with me. where is he? why can't he find me? or maybe he has found me and i'm too upset, crying too hard to know he's close. that means it's all my fault. that means i'm giving in to this grief and i have to stop being weak.

but i'm tired and i want to go home. i want to fall asleep with his body curled around me all warm and alive. i want to feel his hands on me stroking me so i relax and drift off. i want to feel his heart beating against my back and his beard on my neck.

i want a sign.
please, nothing huge. nothing of any Biblical or astronomical import. just a nudge tonight. just a whisper in my ear as i sit and sew late in the darkness that closes in when i have only that one light on beside my chair. just a slight touch. it could be as small as a tiny feeling of peace that finally is allowed to touch my heart.

it only takes a small spark to start getting warm. when one starts getting warm, hope will cease being dormant. it will rouse and start to stretch out it's stiff limbs. then one has a chance at surviving the worst thing that could ever happen. i don't need to really "live" live. i just want to survive so i can exist a little longer. i have some things i need to do, to take care of, before life kicks me in the teeth again. but by then i will accept it as my fate. i am an amiable soul.

but until then, all i wish for is a little sign from you, Dragon dear. a little sign that you remember me, maybe even that you're waiting for me. but i don't want to appear greedy. i just want to feel that you are happy and remember me with love.

i'm having such a hard time without you. in the morning, if you were still here, you'd wake me with kisses and caresses. you'd whisper what you whispered every year we were together.

happy birthday, love. you know why you were born, don't you? to be mine. you were born to be my love.

i'm going to wake up with puppy breath in my face and the job of finding the will to face another day. it's my daughter's birthday. that's what i'll wake up for and paste on a smile for. and i'll look in the mirror at a woman revealed in the harsh lighting. i'll see all too well. i know her sins and i know the sins she is a victim of. but i'll tell her just like i've told her every morning since he died, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."