Stay

In the Memory of all those I love (and mainy my best mr joe. joe lynn.)



Stay with me
Close so that I know
You are
I am
Truly being
Here
Now
So that I will never be lost
I find myself with you
Eating buffalo wings
Hearing about the Padres or the Chargers,
Bummer, they lost again...
Skipping my brain and any kind of rules
as my everything goes
straight to the keys
Painting a picture of us and all da guys
And all the stuff
In unrestrained sonic animation
And dancin aroun being silly as can be
Naked
Abandoning reason or ettiquette or maturity
Singing, dancing, loving like a child
And it's you that are always there
And your little soul with it's own flutters and stutters
And fearlessness
And longing for truth
And compassion and hunger for FREEDOM
I love that you.
It's pretty amazing.
You are, I mean.
I am you.
Forever.

pain killers

Can I have a tylenol
For my heart
Being stretched to it's limit
With love
With longing
For you

It hurts mister. It hurts.
Sometimes I just miss you too bad.
And everyone always has to look over my shoulder
What's she doing now?

Oh mr. I love you. I wish I could still hear your voice
I definitely would check my voicemails if I thought
I'd have a message from you
Oh friend.

Certain times I feel it more than others.

Ho Hum

This is such a hard thing.

I don't want to let go, and yet I'm looking down a long path that leads to exactly that, and talking myself into each little inching step, coaxing, persuading, reassuring because I have to. Because I'm trying to believe something good will come of all this. And as small and insignificant as I feel, as little my contributions to LIFE might seem, there's no way to be sure. If I were to yank myself out of my little role as me in this life, a 26 year old little girl enmeshed by ups and downs and all arounds and steady companion to chaos, confusion, struggle... I'm sure the scene would be incomplete - more incomplete if I flaked, you know? I mean, the void would be bigger than I think. I just know that Joe didn't know. He just didn't have a good perspective on all that. I don't blame him. I've felt that way... Actually I seem to get a refresher course every couple of weeks. Luckily right now I feel well enough to know that I can't trust me sometimes. Anyway. I started writing because he was so much on my mind. I'm listening to my familiar Bill Evans Autumn Leaves, wishing I had a glass of wine to sip on, remember the visceral special way my mister used to enjoy things like that. Not at all in a pretentious or snooty way, just eager and savoring. And being happy for the special.

Yeah so to maybe try and satisfy this aching I get where I just want to talk to him so badly... I want him back agh
I read emails or notes from him, hoping it will be like he's here or something... And it only makes me miss him more. But it also makes me love him more. I feel like I'm blindly groping through this crazy grief thing. I don't know if I'm doing it right. And all the experts say there's no one right way... Everybody's different. But I feel like this is never going to end. More time more time...

An old email from him november '06:

"I am going to work soon, which means I will join you in the Ho Hum Dept. But nonetheless, I love my mister. And I love big hamburgers. But I love the former more in a strictly non-dietary sense. Well, alright, not strictly.
Wuv.
m
i
s
t
e
R"


Dear emighesstee-eearh (mister),
I am about to leave the Ho Hum Dept. Yeay! I was so anxious to leave right at 5 but then I starting thinkin about you and got carried away. So now I'm really going to leave. And maybe I will go home and take a load off, have a beer, play a tune or two, and wuv my mister of course. Thanks for bein a friend. The best. Talk to you. Wuv, your tee double "o" ess eigh ee.