prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08

2002-12-06 - 9:41 a.m.

This morning, as I drove through the snow covered vista, where the evergreens have been painted white, and the high branches of the trees form an icy arc that boughs majestically over the winding roads of Greenwich, I felt like I was inside a postcard. The snowy winterwonderland kind, with a "wish you were here", in scrolly script on the bottom. I wish someone would write all over me. and send me somewhere.

<>last night, you wrote on my hand. but folded yours away, before you let me pen what I wanted to say. Then, I tried to grafitti inside your Walt whitman book, but you laughingly pulled that away, too. You said it would change it forever and you wanted your book to be perfect and unchanged.

but, don't you see, nothing is perfect or unchanged. Driving on the way to the train station, we saw a crumpled mangled baby deer that was ploughed down and left for dead, as it flailed helplessly in the snow. You said it forever ruined the Morrissey song that we were listening to and I cried and you asked me if I was ok.

It was all so surreal. The sadness crept in between us. and you said there was nothing we could do. You were right and you were wrong, and mostly you were right and I just wished that you were wrong. You tried to make me laugh later, and I appreciate that, though we both know, we could not get the image out of our heads, of the little deer sinking deeper and deeper into the snow, as it tried desperately to make it's back legs work.The image of of it's tiny brown flesh, still warm as it went under the snowbank will forever haunt me. I will never ever forget the look of sheer panic on it's young face as the hideous headlights of approaching, monstrous looking, S.U.V. cars, shined on the young deer's terrified face. I felt so evil, driving in my car. like I was somehow at fault too. I told you that god was nowhere and you said it was not god's fault.

But I am mad at god! Your god! any god ! How could any loving entity let a small innocent creature suffer needlessy like that? I am firing your god ! I want a new god!

alas, you tried to soothe me. Somehow, you understand me.

you understand, how deeply it affects me to see any animal suffer, you understand and you tried so hard to make it better.

later, sitting in the car, at the train station, you made me laugh. with tears on my face, you made me laugh. You opened your messenger bag and shook out your secrets, or at least you wanted me to think so. You distracted me, like I was a small child. and It touches me. I just want you to know.

I just want you to know., that it touches me.

and you reached over and rubbed my angora sweater, between the blades of your fingers. and said," it is very soft, but I have felt softer things. "

I wanted to hug you in the snow and feel the warm heat of our bodies, diappearing us far away

You walked up the stairs and and then you turned and came back and handed me your walt whitman book. you said that I could write in it,now. I know you did it to be kind, you said you felt bad and that you wanted me to write in it.

but, the moment was not mine to take anymore. it had passed. and I did not want to change your perfect book, how could I ?

but if I had written in it, this is what I would have said

Dec 5, 2002

11:08 pm

greenwich train station

snow falling softer

than my angora sweater

thank you for the happy face

you drew on my hand

we are here right now.

and someday you will read this

and we will be very far away.

A part of each other

apart from one another

I hope you miss me then.

I hope you miss me

because then it will mean

that we did it right.

tonight you touched me.

we felt softer things.

we felt softer things.

I hope you miss me.

not now, but someday

because tonight we felt softer things

I hope you miss me,

I truly do~

because, even though

you are right next to me,

I find myself ,

inexplicably,

missing you.

always,~ w

P.S. I am glad you are here~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

but instead, I just handed you back your book

and you ran to catch your train.

and I had to drive past the deer.

Police strobe lights were flashing and painting the eerie, snowy midnight, luminous shades of red and blue. As I approached the spot, I could see her tiny body had been pulled from the snow bank, and she was thrashing helplessly on the cold ground, in front of the police cars. They stood watching, in a completely disattached way. I stopped my car. the deer was still flailing and her warm breath rose like steam into the ice covered night. Seeing her like that was more horrible than I can ever say. I wanted to do something, my mind was racing, I wanted to call my vet. Just then, one of the officers casually said to the other, "just shoot it".

and I heard the gun blast. and just like that, the thrashing ceased. the light had fallen from the sky and the night fell, crashing with blackness.

I wanted to touch the baby dear. hold her in my arms, and cradle her. How soft her fur must be.I wanted so badly to wrap her in my angora sweater, and tell her that she is the softest thing that I have ever held.

then, I looked down, my tears had splashed onto my hands, and I saw the silly happy face you had drawn.

nothing is perfect and unchanged

you touched me, and we both felt softer things.

and that was what I was thinking about, when I was driving through the postcard hills this morning.

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