Posts

Future Memories

 What a difference just a few weeks makes.   On July 18th, Genevieve and I flew to Michigan and you returned from camp two days later.  Two weeks apart was rougher than I'd expected.  Talking and texting with you helped.  I missed your physical presence, though. We'd only barely started touching when you traveled to camp Willborough, place of your child and teen memories of Scout traditions, adventures, learning, and friends.  Only barely had we kissed, grazing lips gently--tentatively, holding each other with layers of clothing and some doubt and joy and promise.   Your voice on the phone felt warm and comfortable, teasing, listening, laughing.  I could picture your head tilting when you stretched out, "Yeeesss."  We spent a night on the lake deck watching fireflys and the sunset so late I got locked out of the cottage.  Everywhere I looked, stories of my childhood trips to Lake Michigan rose like ghosts from the sand.  A...
Post a Comment
Read more

Heart Wrenching

 Years ago I had a patient who worked at our local call center.  She'd have been deemed "high maintenance."  I also took care of both her parents.  Her mom was frail and chronically ill.  Her father struggling to take care of his wife and not strong himself.  My patient, LM, struggling to take care of them both.  She was under-employed in the call center due to some of her own chronic health conditions.  Trained as a musician and an artist if I remember correctly.  LM also has a son with multiple mental health and physical health struggles; she worked likely hundreds of hours to get him support and diagnoses and treatment and benefits and housing and assistance and support in college in his computer science endeavors. The reason she took so much time was because she'd message me almost daily regarding a detailed question about hers or her mother's care.  At that time I did not yet have her son in my patient panel and heard of him only th...
Post a Comment
Read more

Proud of You

 Often when we talk I learn more about you.  I keep thinking I might be getting close to knowing the extent of your thoughtfulness, then something new surfaces.  Helping others is such a part of you that I'm not even sure you see the whole of it.  You've built service into your life in a way that few others have.   I knew, of course, that you led your troop, and then helped other scouts with the swimming badge.  Then you shockingly offered to help Genevieve continue outside of the group classes.  Then I learned that you coached wrestling, spending countless hours mentoring young adults. Your friends then started to call you while in crisis and you dropped everything to help.  You helped your friend with the trapped deer.  You showed up for Suki.  In the midst of this you helped with at least three Eagle projects.  You collect and fix bikes to give to scouts.  You spend your vacation cutting down dangerous trees at a camp w...
Post a Comment
Read more

I do

 In the beginning, I'd drift off to sleep after we'd texted goodnight, imagining your hands on me, but stopping before anything else ran through my head that could keep me awake longer than your words already had.   I knew it was silly.  It felt so good to imagine you there though.  It felt less alone.   And now, magically it seems, you have been there.  The real life you, not a figment.  It feels shocking to be wanted, and even more shocking to be wanted by someone I have craved.   I keep the memory of you reaching for my waist and turning me back toward you to kiss me again.  Stroking my hair gently.  Kissing me warmly on the forehead as my head rests on your chest.  Squeezing me close to you. Wrapping me up in you.  Every time I think of you, I feel my body flush and tense with longing.  You asked me to let you know every once in a while that I still wanted you.  I do.  
Post a Comment
Read more