Ich war endlich an zu weinen. Es fühlte sich gut. Es fühlte sich nach rechts. Aber ich bin auch froh, dass ich gestoppt

Long Distance by Aleda Shirley

I found this book of poetry, Long Distance, by Aleda Shirley, over 12 years ago on the campus of Miami University. I was doing something I was not supposed to be doing - shopping the books required of other creative writing classes, classes for which I was not registered, and buying them. Not too many, just a couple. And I'm so glad I did, because I would have never discovered this poet had I not.


More importantly, I found that which I still consider to be my favorite poem. And over the last 12 years ago, this poem, along with my second favorite which is also in this book, have evolved in meaning for me. For every different journey in my life, including those in which I traveled abroad to escape (not a recommended practice just in case you're considering it...), traveled to strange towns and cities, met people in those "in-between" places that would change my life forever, this book of poems has followed me. Literally. For most of the year I lived in Wooster, this book was always with me, in my writing bag which was always with me.


I mention Wooster because when I read this poetry today, I don't think so much of the Arizona man I left behind me in Oxford, OH or his random reoccurances in my life up until he married the girl from Poland, and even years after that, running into him once again in Oxford, an encounter that left scars that I can still feel freshly today, two years later.


Or of the deaths of those I've loved so much, Julie especially dying at the age of 19 - that which still brings me to tears every March since. Or Eric, who had the unfortunate reassignment to New York City's Twin Towers at the exact wrong moment in time - that which has me in tears right now.


Or of the other random heartbreaks.


Or even of the other heartbreak - the one that will remain in my life forever. You know, the kind where you love that person so much, especially the friendship you have shared with that person, that regardless of the pain you do feel, sometimes more sharply than other times, to not be his friend would hurt worse...


No, just life in general and all the things you learn about yourself, from your past, the past your family finally chooses to share with you - the kind that nearly tears you to pieces and nearly leaves you incapable of functioning completely for many days on end... until you must do something to forget about it just to continue breathing, even though it hurts so much to breath - that tightness in your chest.

Whether we talk about these things or not, to friends or family - and most likely we don't say much when we do, they still exist in our heads, in all our bodies. And the choice we have, though definitely not simple or easy, is not just to live or not live, but is whether or not we will continue to love or not love.

And Wooster continues to remind me I wouldn't be here today if not for Wooster.

Long Distance

Aleda Shirley

A man in California says he understands me,

and i don't object. Only the faithful believe

in edges, as if a clear boundary between something

and something else were proof of God. Lately

I've sensed a tidal movement in the past

as it moves into the present and out again,

and in the dead shimmering from death into dreams

and standing like thin silver trees at the foot of the bed.

I take solace in a thing that is absolutely itself

or itself no long. And what's the difference

between those presences who come in the middle

of the night and the man who asked me to sail

down the waterways that thread the Atlantic coast,

the east side of the country where the sea releases

the sun in the morning? The boat was made of wood:

it shone. Or the woman who could bend and open

light, suspend it in the palm of her hand like water

in the deep bowl of a wineglass. I'm talking

about the night of the night, a length darker

and deeper when night is most itself; even the watchman

in the warehouse dozes for a while then jerks

himself awake at the sound of a car horn,

the sharp edge of a motion sensor in the parking lot.

A cleark at a convenience store makes change,

gives a ten back when she means to give back

a five. In California my friend is awake

and not becuase it's earlier there. We talked

for hours one night; I described the waterways

as the trees changed from latitude to latitude,

the estuaries and finger lakes,

the birds moving north as we sailed south.

Of course I was talking about something that never

happened, which is a way of saying no all over again.

Are you happy is one of those questions people

ask each other only when they've been apart

a long time. Later, when I looked east, I was looking

for two things, two things at least. One was morning.

I asked him to tell me how to give up.

Tell me how you do it, I said, and then go on.

Drainage, Eli, you boy....

After almost 10 hours a day at work and the 40 minute commute home from work in rush hour traffic in a car with malfunctioning air conditioning in 90 degree heat with 80% humidity....

I'm surprised I manage to do much once I get home. Other than managing my side business.

I need to find some other strength of motivation given that I have to pack the place up to move in two weeks. Luckily Matt is not working right now, so much of the housework is left to him. Yes, it seems I finally have a housewife of my own.

(I'm learning to be more grateful of the fact that I come home and he's done the laundry, the dishes and the regular upkeep. It's very nice and I love him for it since I know plenty of women who would like their men to do those things just every once in a while. :)

All the same, I need more motivation. Something organic. Like yoga. Hmmm... I'm sure my doctor would approve.

Ich weiß, dass, wenn ich mich zurück in diesen Seiten, werde ich eine vorherige Eintrag mit den gleichen Worten. Ich bin dumm zu glauben, es wäre auch Sache für ihn.

Und nun, ich werde gehen in meinem Leben. Er ist nur ein kleiner Punkt, den ich zu kämpfen haben.

Ich gehe auf ihn zu lieben leise. Wie ich bereits getan haben, für die letzten acht Jahre. Es sollte nicht einfach mit dem jetzt.

The Dream

It was so real and vivid, that I can still remember most details.

There was a party. Lots of people there. It looked like Sam's house.

I was there. He was there. His wife was there. But he wasn't talking to his wife, didn't even acknowledge her.

And then there was this pretty girl with short blonde hair.

I was trying to talk to him, but he wasn't listening. He was paying attention to the pretty blonde.

I was talking about previous adventures. (Adventures we always talked about, but never did. Though, in a dream a couple of weeks ago, we did these adventures. There's plenty to analyize about that previous dream, but it doesn't matter.) He was talking to me, but looking at her.

And so I walked away. Starting talking to his wife, who was also watching him watch the blonde. There was some sort of understanding, but completely unspoken.

Cutting to the end of the dream, he starts to leave with the blonde.

"I'm here. Your wife is here. And you're going to leave with this girl you don't know?"

"Yes."

His wife and I stand there together looking at him leave.

Dream ends.

Point taken. And from the details I haven't mentioned because they don't matter to anyone else anyway, I do finally understand.

Funny how these moments of finally understanding are never really enjoyable. There is pain. But there is also relief. Because at least I know that I will never mention it again.

Yes, regardless of how I feel, I will practice a self-restraint of silence that I have only been able to hold one other time in my life.

End of story.

Ah, the confusion. Isn't it fun. If I were to, by chance, have a normal day, without this "confusion," I'm not sure I would actually know what to do with myself.

It's already been a long day and I haven't even begun the "real" work. I realized the closets would have to wait, remembering that I will have people coming over on Christmas day and it would probably be a good idea to actually clean the place. Accomplished thus far - grocery shopping, getting enough cat food to last through the year, cleaning supplies since I, of course, ran out of everything last weekend, gift wrapping stuff... and coffee. I burned quite a lot of calories carrying all of this in three trips from the garage.

Now I just need to find my second wind so that I can actually do everything I need to do with the stuff I just bought. FUN!

My first day of vacation begins, just as it gets the coldest it has been thus far. I'm hoping to accomplish a thorough cleaning out of closets, the vessels of all the stuff left unpacked because I ended up having surgery so soon after moving in here.

I KNOW I'm missing some sweaters...

The American People have spoken...

And Obama is our President-elect. His winning speech last night was so beautiful it nearly brought me to tears. Perhaps the true colors of this country are not as black and white as the Republican party wanted us to believe. And thank God for that. I'm so proud that the great state of Ohio voted for Obama as well.

The election night party was a blast. It was great to be with wonderful people and best friends on the night during which a new chapter of American history was made. Thank you Allison, Eva and BJ for joining Matt and I on that historic and monumental night!

And of course, many thanks to Obama himself, for being the kind of person we can believe in and who can take this country back in the right direction. Without you, it would be just another day in Washington.

The beautiful bride, Eva.

BJ, Eva, Matt & I


Eva's sister-in-law Stephanie and 2 year old Audrey.













The sultry Bevin




BJ's son, Howie













The very lovely Dr. Liz, Eva's sister-in-law, who I miss very much now that she's doing her residency in South Carolina.

Eva and her sister, Donna.


The best man, Patrick, and his lovely wife, Jenny, the maid of honor.

Alex and his girlfriend Laura, with the bride.

The glowing & pregnant Jenny.

Eva and BJ (finally) get married

The bride and groom, Eva and BJ

With cake on their faces.

Rick, who performed the ceremony, and his wife Sheila.

Eva and her mother, Lea

Before I post the pictures of the beautiful bride named Eva, I have sad news. A good friend and fellow project manager at work, was killed in an auto accident this weekend. I think I'm still in shock. But I'm sure it will hit me come Wednesday afternoon when we don't go out for our weekly after work drink. He was only 41 years old with 2 teenage boys. I'm feeling quite sad right now.

In loving memory of Eric.

Election night party starts at 7:30 p.m. BYOB.

Get ready for an eventful, and hopefully historic, night.

Sure, bring your Republican friends, so long as they are not the lunatics screaming "kill him" at rallies. THOSE people are NOT invited. So help me God, if you show up... I have access to dangerous weapons. :)

just kidding ...about the part where I might have implied that I would use those weapons against you.

That would get me fired.

I have duct tape.

Free speach is one thing, evoking violence is another. And not welcome in my home.

Nevermind, I don't know anybody who would associate with those people. Thankfully.

See you Tuesday!!!

If you should feel like checking out my new "shinny little toy" (as we like to call it in the world of defense weapons)....


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6GeRfinQP60