Saturday, June 13, 2009

Here, but not present . . .

I spent an overall splendid Saturday with my youngest and bestest of friends. We went for a swim in the horrid heat. This is a sign that my love for him is deep and unrelenting as I never, EVER, get into what could be considered "swimwear." (Of course, I don't even own a swimsuit. I wore some really ugly shorts and a t-shirt, but you get the point. I don't do water. It's a shame really, because I love water. It's my body that's always posed the problem. Hell, even when I was marathon fit I never wore what could be considered revealing clothing.) As we walked hand in hand to the pool my young friend asked me very pointedly, "Tiffany, are you gonna leave?" I paused before answering. "What do you mean?" He peered up at me, "Are you gonna leave Texas?" I had to remind myself that I was talking to a child, therefore it would do me no good to venture forth on my usual rant about the suckworthiness of Austin, Texas and how it is in fact a veritable lifesuck and not the cultural, commercial, or artistic mecca its PR army has endeavored to portray it as. Instead I answered, "Yes. I will leave Texas again." He then asked me, "Why? I like Texas. There are lots of nice animals here." I couldn't really disagree with him seeing as how I myself have managed to meet quite a few nice animals. Nor did I extend my remarks with my usual addendum, "Hell yeah I want to leave Texas! And Austin! For good!" I was very quick to tell him, "You know that you will come and visit me no matter where I am, right?" His response? "Okay. But you have to come see me too." When he is older I will tell him that nothing in the world will ever keep me from him. Nothing. As far as I'm concerned I'll be at his graduations, wedding, and whatever commemorative moments for which he feels he compelled to welcome me. This little boy runs through my veins. He is the closest thing to a child I will ever know. One day, when he is older, I will tell him as much. But for now, I held his hand that much tighter in mine and we spent a hot Saturday enjoying one another's company, splashing about in a small apartment pool, and things were fine, just fine.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

32 . . . and a little blue . . .

So today is my birthday and it has now been one year since my father passed away. He's been on my mind since I woke up this morning. And I'd be lying if I didn't admit to crying a little bit. It's been on and off. I miss him. I miss him something awful. I have stop to ask myself, "Will it always be like this? Will each birthday be a mixture of melancholy and merriment? Will I keep counting the years until it's my time?" I hope not.