The Pain of Being Away

The Sixth Sense, a great flick that I recommend
to all. I say to all, all of my 2 readers. I mention this movie because I watched it last Friday. It has stayed with me since then. Friday was not the first time I have seen it, nor will it be the last.

I am scared of death. I am more scared of my loved ones death, than of my own. The pain suffered during a loss is seemingly unbearable. The pain is undescribable. Everyone knows this pain.

Basically while my love is away a light version of this pain exists. It creeps up on me at various times throughout the day. I say day, but I am not free from it at night or even while I sleep.

The painkiller is the daily phone call, daily email, weekly letter, or the daydream of our next meeting (12.20.04).

With death similar principles are used. Old letters, pictures, and videos are substituted for the phone calls and letters. Of course the daydream of the next meeting stays with the living. The spiritual side of you tells you that meeting will be paradise. You shake your head and believe. But, I am a man. I have doubts. What if? I fight the the doubts and tell myself I believe.

I make myself think of something else, just as I did when I was a child. The anxiety remains the same. Happy thoughts and happy places.

Amazing how a movie can affect someone.

I look forward to the next call, next email, next letter, and most of all, December 20th.



Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start

Coldplay, The Scientist

Email isn't Romantic

Maybe the title should read, Letters Are Romantic. Perhaps I should not be writing this entry. I am only reproducing her words anyway. She is not being fair to electronic mail.

There is a difference w/ letters... something about the way the words flow from the Chop House pen. The words better flow. I am going to spend at least twenty minutes writing the fetching thing, steal one of her envelopes, slap on a 37 cent stamp (I would have stolen the stamp too, but she took them all), then make the long trek down the driveway to the mailbox.

Now in the 3-5 days it takes her to receive this letter I will have talked to her a minimum of 5 times and more realistically probably upwards of 10 to 15 times. By the time she receives it my words will be old news, outdated, antiquated, vintage.

But, there is something about the snail mail. It is nostalgic. It is special. It is not just a few keystrokes and a click of the mouse. Oh yes, the receiver knows that there has been some time and effort put into this simple pleasure. From the studly hands that wrote it, to the multiple letter carriers and sorters who delivered it. It is superior to any email. Email isn't romantic.