how wonderfully meaningless to be in the world, to be her world, to be their world only. the house is coming around the bend, hallway done, frames being primed and eyeing new doors into and out of this place. we’re shopping for BBQ grills and patio sets that we cannot afford. she says, “our tastes are just too good.”
i am trying, desperately, to be here, to stay here, the here and now, where my daughter calls me to chase her, to teach her how to run. i’ve lost the ambition for this, been losing it for some time, but to love this, to love a family, to learn to be a father…
there is no ambition for that, but there is yearning and hope and fear and laughter at the madness of it all…
Monthly Archives: May 2005
bloody hell time flying
she’s willfull in ways that would make her spoiled if she didn’t share her food with us. this is what she does now, feeds me as I feed her. and i think terribly some day the roles will be reversed but I won’t be feeding her, just her feeding her old man, broken finally in all places, mind gone, body gone, wife gone, nothing left but a sack of misery for her. will she be changing my diapers.
and it’s not easy to think of another child while this, not wanting to take away from the singularity of this one child, with her pony tail atop her head like some martian and her gut busting laughter. it’s something to be ashamed of, not wanting to take the spotlight away from this child.
redoing room by room
there’s a light to all of this, transforming a house into a home, little by little. lots of echoes still, but here as our youth ends before our child, i hope there will be at least one more thumping and spouter of gibberish to fill up these empty halls.
hear it coming
i hear it coming again, the broken again, the soft scatter of will never come back together: it holds longer for this sound, longer than for any other, the longest it has ever held.
i’m holding it together with bared knuckles and twine for her and i don’t know what it means when she keeps pushing and not moving back, not budging at all, and its cutting the tendon from the bone to the point where it isn’t worth holding together anymore.
i would have done anything for you, if you held it together for me, if you kept it safe. but no where is safe with you, nothing sacred or holy. anything is a target, as long as it can scratched and pierced and cleaved away. eveything is ripe.
it’s a new kind of something to see your life peel this way.
Engagment note for Mike and Mina
It’s about time and finding time. Squeezing time between work days and weekends, snuggling up to time to keep it still. And sometimes, time seems to stop at the right moment and stretch out in all directions, but then others, it just runs away too soon.
It’s about time and making time. Cutting through chunks of it just to be together a little bit longer. As if somehow, through sheer force of will, we can make time out of thin air and keep it safe, tucked in our pockets.
But in the end, it’s about timing and the right time. Having enough time to start the things in life for which we promise the future. Timing your life to match the perfect pace of another’s. The right time to pop the question and make their heart yours.