Friday, January 23, 2015
I'm betting a small bucket of catalpa worms, a pond and a cane pole to start.
It is the nursing home, and my second time there in the past few weeks. I've been scared to return.
I sit on the floor outside his door and wait for therapy to finish.
Last time the visit was so quick you woulda thought I was trying to break out.
It is good I have to rest here for a minute.
He smiles and laughs and we joke and I give him two love letters.
"Hide these, please."
He will, he says.
We hug and tell each other how much we love each other. I kiss him on his cheek.
The power goes out. I imagine there is someone calling and telling those guys they have to leave their homes in this rain and work. I don't do it. Though I know some people need machines in order to keep living, I'll hear the rain and think it is important for me to be still and listen.
Nobody is running. Nobody is screaming. There are no emergencies in the immediate vicinity.
A car drives by. I hear tires meet water meet pavement meet air,
and I check my email to finally read what came earlier.
It is Daniel.
We are to meet in February.
I reply but can't send it.
Later, I think.
I stop by her office on my way to work.
(after the bus barn where I confuse the driver)
"Just pick a love letter. It's to a stranger. Leave it anywhere on your bus."
I repeat myself and then laugh at how absurd I am.
She says okay but I suspect only to get rid of me. I don't blame her.
At her office I tell her she has to have a party.
It has to be in February at the place she and her husband created.
She says, "Okay."
"I'll make Mrs. Vera's brownies. We'll play surrealistic poker. You have to see it. Here. Look."
She reads the description of the game and smiles.
Then she laughs and says, "Corey will be hilarious."
"My thought exactly."
Today I am grateful for friends, people who humor strangers, a nice rain, and how a night without power can be sweet.