Matt Potter 7 p.m., May 4
- Community Blog
- Throwaway Poetry
Christmas without Terry
the only good thing i can say about today...a bright but cold Sunday in SandyEggo ...is that it's not raining...i'd be completely crushed if it was
I've never gotten completely over that "little girl lost feeling"...the "nose pressed to the candy store window" phenomena of my childhood when on rainy Sundays my Da couldn't come and visit me at the orphanage
i fell in love with Terry when he offered to adopt me
i hate loss...simply hate it...and if tears could wash the loss away I'd be a heavy weight contender...
but that's not the way the Universe works...if only i was a well indoctrinated Buddhist who would cling to the understanding of ebb and flow of joy and pain and could rise above the waves and sail smoothly over them....sometimes i manage to..
sometimes i can't tho...but that's not true...
i could but I've chosen to be alive and experience all of it
this year was tough and is getting tougher
yesterday i spoke with Terry's wife....our usual Christmas conversation since his death....and she cried so hard i couldn't understand a word...and before too long she couldn't understand me either...how strange it is that we are the only ones who knew a side of that Irishman that has now become a soothing salve of healing for each of us when we speak
Terry sent me his 30 year old sweater two years ago Christmas...because Gail told him she'd pummel him if he didn't throw it away after she and the boys bought him a new one....hahahahahahahahahaha....this year i removed all the metal buttons and strung them with cabochons of his birthstone to make a necklace for her...the 29th of this month would have been his 62nd birthday....all of the bears i sent to his granddaughter never made their way to her as Terry hugged them all up and refused to relinquish them.....hahahahahahahahahahaha...
HE WAS SO BAD...a kid still in his mind...just like me...two peas in a pod...our sox sewn together waiting to run away from home and take the transcontinental train across Canada
shall we go adventuring
find somewhere to play
down the willowed barkland
on a bright crisp winter day
lull me with palather
i'll push you in your swing
with lips of Winter crimson
accept your friendship ring
Gawd Gail and i loved that man!!!