..::05.02.08::..
cloaked in an oppressive fog i am ichabod crane waiting for my headless horseman. only it is me that has lost my head. driving in yesterday was navigating through a harbor of despair. i made sounds of fog horns. ships lost. sounds of gulls crying. attempts to bring laughter to downer day. it was the beginning. laughter wasn't so hard then. as the day progressed breathing became more labored. the wind and rain chilled to the bone. a walk that was normally calming, causes shivers. hours pass. i am busy. left to my thoughts. the bell tolls on seven days since i have last spoken to my mother. insignificant to some. the world to me. the thought creeps in. an irrational thought. the one i don't want to think about. but because of my friends can't but help to...what if i never get to speak to her again? no. that's ridiculous. but yes, this is what it will feel like. one day. when she is gone. when they are gone. i can not bear it. i call him. no answer. i call to hear her voice. i stupidly decide to leave a voicemail. voice breaking harder than any wave i leave a message i wish i could erase. but i can not. i miss her, but she is not really gone. i lack in things to say. i call back after class. tell her all is well. that i miss her. that the day got to me. have dinner. chat. snuggle. go to bed. it is the next day i realize i feel what i feel for a reason. but i have pegged the parent incorrectly. my gift so to speak isn't dead on...just approximate. it is my father. a boating accident. this is why he doesn't answer my call. why i call mom's voicemail in the first place...strange that with him i do not leave a message. can't show that i'm vulnerable. he is ok. he hit the marker in just the right way...but i can tell that he's scared. can he tell that i am thankful? relieved? that it was just a close approximation? i hope so.
***
in just over a week i will leave on valentine's day for a week. i thought it best to leave on a day of love. to head for the land that is not known for love.
***
there has been discomfort in my family in regards to the election. we do not all see eye to eye. we do not all hold the same views. we are not all void of racism. the best way to test dis/comfort is to face it. right now i am working on a new campaign. a coloring book theme. people 10' tall. last week i chose colors for everything. crayola has some creative namers out there now. manatee for gray. razzmatazz for the pink of lips. it is when you reach a color that is not yours that this exercise becomes uncomfortable. do you ask/address a person outside your race to gain their opinion? or is that too insulting? PC is great, but it has made things drastically more difficult that shouldn't be. luckily i am rarely uncomfortable in general. a friend asked me to what the lip colors should be for two of four. and then started to pull various crayons to match. i love her. and just as one of the signs in the school gymnasium said tonight when i voted "i love black people."
