Years ago when visiting a Stanbrooke Abbey in the English hills
I took a room with my friend Valerie at Mrs. Murphy's guesthouse..
or Mrs. Jones' or O'Brian's..
The bedspreads were chenille, the slush was orange and the floors were squeaky clean.
The beds however were iron springs wired for sound
and every move, every shift was broadcast through
the small wooden house below the Abbey.
Above the bed in every room was a large sign :
"Jesus is a witness to every conversation."
How does a guy get away? I mean.. even in the English countryside..
so accountable, never solo, the angels on the shoulder...all that..
It pissed me off then...
I had secrets to keep and schemes to cook.
Thinking I knew the real answers to life's consistent problems...
just like Guy Noir.
Now, no such secrets. No such answers.
No such worries but
yes, an angel on my shoulder.
I have to write about T.
I have to say that my husband and I had great adventures together.
I have to say that the anonymity of travel lifted the pressure
of being who we thought we should be
as young and learning partners.
Our blond baby led us through Europe,
incurious guides took us through China and gawked at the cheek of taking a walk with no purpose.
In Bali, the joy of a monkey penis as a shower head had us covered,
cocoa and churros calmed the fight in front of the Spanish cathedral.
We just let ourselves be in the world together when we traveled and so it seems we have lodged ourselves in the lining of this cellular structure that this time around is me.
Tony is everywhere here.
He is at the cathedrals, at the money changers looking for a better deal,
looking out over the city at dawn,
actually sleeping when I cannot.
He is present in the cellular structure of now, as well as then.
Real, palpable, impatient, joyous, lucky, not sweating money ( the source of all our fights).
He is reminding me of the things he said constantly
about education being the key to moving ahead,.
About how much he loves the fact that I read local newspapers.
He is chiding me to take a walk and leave the computer.
I am sitting the atrium at the hotel and listening to the click click of Indian families gossiping together and we are on the promenade in the Gaudi village
in Spain where we strolled every evening, searching for the best ice cream.
This is not a bad thing or a good thing. It just is.
I miss the push and prod of being on the same side of the divide
but I am so grateful for him in the lining of my heart
of now and then and what comes next.
oh my god.
4 comments:
And, he is here with us. When we eat a great meal, one that is fabulous. When she takes a phone call and it's business. When the dog howls.....
He's here. And, I'm grateful for that.
suz - I too found you. About to go share a vacation with CLyde with many of your same thoughts of your Tony. We leave tomorrow. I will follow you from my perch in the south. Keep safe and learning. I hope Chennai fulfills its promise, its potential promise. Love you. Miss you.
what a blessing to have had and to have.
Wow. What an adventure. The food, the grit, the thoughts, the spirit of Tony. Relish every moment.
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