Sound Mind And Body Is A Relative Term Mind You

I, Bear, being sound of mind and body, do say the following to women who will know who they are as they read of themselves in the words herein…

I dropped my ring on the floor when we went for coffee the first time. You laughed when he found it on the floor and handed it to me and I fell in love with you before in the swimming panic I was in, you simply smiled and went with it like you always do. You let me buy you Calla Lilies. You spoil me with the support I do not deserve and love I cannot fathom. You have held me, literally and metaphorically as I have broken and fell to the ground in pieces and pieces. You forgave, for that alone you have me.

You walk in my Darkness and you are never afraid because who but the Air Traffic Controller can walk in the chaos of planes and never need to worry about getting hit by one? You are the sole reason I can never look at a coconut again and not cringe. You have solved some of the most complex things that I have ever had in my head with the ease of me writing that coconuts scare me now. You make me feel old and you are the only person I have ever met who can do it and make me feel good about it somehow. You let me hug you and spin you and you don’t punch me as hard as other people.

From the very first time I saw you, oddly enough with a full cup of coffee on your head, I knew that you were as wonderful a person as I could ever know and you have never once given me a reason to change that estimation of you. You know that we saw things blowing across a road that NEVER should be able to move on their own. You’re the reason I live here, you held my son before she did and it is one of the highlights of my life. For the record, I never tried to tickle your liver, well, maybe not NEVER.

You were the first one there with me that horrible morning and you sat and held me and cried with me with tears I have never forgotten. I remember every word of our first conversation on those uncomfortable stairs. You give some of the best hugs I have ever had, ever. You let me call you a ridiculous nickname and I think I can remember the limerick I made up about you that night if you give me enough time. I came and held your hand when times were dire and we will always have the memory of me being whatever all those kids were calling me.

I have told you I love you every single day for years. it is mostly the first thing I say to you in the morning and when you write me back I smile. You let me give you just as ridiculous a nickname as your genetic partner in crime above and I remember holding you on the porch and never wanting to kill someone quite as bad as I did that night. You have grown up terrifyingly fast and I am so proud to know you and who you have turned into.

I told you just yesterday that you were one of the most wonderful people I know and that your words and hugs were a balm to my very soul. I miss you so very much and I owe you a thousand times a thousand hugs for that and that alone not to mention all the other reasons. You have made me laugh and cry and you were always here for me when I needed you to be. Every single time.

That picture will always sit in the center of my heart as one of the most beautiful things I have ever known to have happened. Ordering a sandwich with you is an experience that should truly be filmed. I invented a new way to sign my name just for you and you alone. You make me cry each and every time I watch you dance. You tried to teach me truths I was not ready for and I am so grateful for you to have been patient and honest enough with me to try again.

Our conversations each morning are the highlight of my day. From consensual roaring to the lamenting of caffeinated absences. You are a truly beautiful woman within and without and I miss you a great deal and I owe you at least a gallon or two of coffee. You are an extraordinary human being and you have some of the most amazing children I have ever heard of.

I haven’t known you as long as I have known everyone else here, but you are still one of my closest friends. You allowed me to get past the creepy bear stage and you have listened to me in moments of mania and depression both. You brought me a cupcake and gave me a card that I still just next to my bed where I can see it each and every day.

Oh, you. I would never forget you. Golden Light. Sister Sweet. Magnificent and kind, wise and beautiful, sweet, and soulful. Ours is a history with far more tragedy than either of us would like, but you never once have quit on me even after all the ample opportunities I have given you to do precisely that.

No Love, I Have Not Forgotten You, Not Once…

You gave me everything that I ever wanted and all the things that I never even knew existed before you. Three kids, Ducks of renown and wonders of the heart. A decade of marriage, two countries, moving like vagabonds until we found our home, here among almost everyone up there I just wrote about, although you would love the sweetest one you never got to meet.

I am neither going anywhere temporarily or permanently, I truly love you all and I needed to tell you all how much. However, this is the best I could come up with.

Elemental In Complex Lunacy

First We Talk About My Love Of The Sea…

There are days where you want the world to stop and allow you to take a single, deep, refreshing breath, but all it does is swamp you with wave after wave. You know you are going to be okay regardless of the amount of water that hits you, you still fear that fear of drowning regardless. The panic of the water filling you slowly takes over your rational mind until it is all you can do to think the most primitive thoughts and try as hard as you can to stay just above the surface of the rising tide.

Today it is not the water that is rising, simply a desire to get the fuck out of the water completely. However, fear is defined as the imminence of danger and as far as I know, there is no danger. There are heartbreak and tragedy, worthlessness, and fire, but my Goddess there is no fear involved in this at all and I will be damned if I am driven from the element of my soul by the very thought of an emotion that is not present. I will swim in the water, I will submerge my mind and heart in it and silence the voices of doubt, derision, and disaster and when I bring my head back out of the water I will take that breath that stings so very good and move the fuck one to the ones after that, as everyone and anyone do.

So We Stay On Land A Moment…

Do you feel the firmament of it? The solidity of it? That is the absoluteness of the convictions you need to maintain through the struggles that are coming. The water may be a harsh mistress that takes everything from you in an errant moment of your lack on concentration, but the land is the taskmaster that holds you to your purpose, that grinds you to the wheel you choose and makes you feel, even when you beg it to not be so cruel to you. The land is that which is not the fantasy you want to lose yourself in. The land is the real, the hurt, land hosts…well, we will get to Her in a moment.

The rock and the dirt, the dust that clogs your nose and ground that callouses your feet beings you back to where you need to be, where you should be. It does not care for you, it does not love you, it simply is there and you are forced to acknowledge it, or ignore it at your absolute greatest peril. As the weight of it crushes you it will not even look at you as you are destroyed, it will simply grind on because that is the very nature of what it is to be the land, the earth, that which is solid.

Then We Warm Ourselves With Fire…Briefly

The magma is where my mind is the most uncomfortable. I can accept the fire of creation, the heat of passion, the sweeping firestorms of wrath, but the magma, the fire that sits forever and slowly takes away as it adds infinitesimally slower. The anticipation of the disastrous that cannot be avoided. It alone can destroy all the others. Boiling the water, liquefying the land, poisoning the sky. It is ever-present in its absolute destruction and I shy away from it because to embrace it, to embrace the chaotic change it embodies, is to deny myself at the very core of who I am.

We Ignore The Sky Today, It’s Message Is Not For Us, Instead, We Turn To The Secretive One…

The Darkness is that place where the manifestations of the deepest Id are made flesh. It is where the bravest walk unafraid and the weak tremble before the Void of it all. It is a place we all have, we all go to, we all dread in our ways. We try and run to the Light of Reason and logic but time and time again the malingering Fears of the Unknown, the Memories of Pain, the Dread of the Pasts we have been through.

Now We Summarize, Minify, Logic Proof, and Custom Cut…

I think that there is time enough for us to flit and fly through the Fantasy of air another time I can promise it. Today I stop. Not pause but stop. I stop and think of what Was, what Is, Would Will Be, and more importantly, What Can Never Be Again. I have seen the Alpha, now it is time for the Omega.

Butterfly Motherfucker

So, funny story?

I have been writing for longer than I have known any of you. I have had a pencil, then pen, then keyboard, at my disposal for thirty-plus years now. I am not an expert in it, I am not an author of note, I don’t even type without looking at the keyboard on a bad day. What I do know about writing can probably fit onto a postcard because I neither am a student of the craft nor have I ever desired to be.

All I ever wanted, at least in the writing universe, is to be a published poet. I wanted to write verse and make people laugh and cry with it. It was a passion that I had that has, sadly, diminished quite a bit over the years as life has done what life does to people and changed their priorities and their desires. I got married, then did that again, and again, and again. I had a kid, then did that a few more times too, well at least my late wife did, I did the easy and the fun part there.

Then, after my Dove died, I felt this huge bubble inside of me that is swelling even as we speak. I want to believe it is for the stories that I write, the ones that some seem to like so very much, and make me smile with their praise.

No, no I don’t think that is it.

As I sit here at the start of or at least the acknowledgment of, a mid-life crisis, the metaphors and the sing-song quality of words occur to me more and more. Not the cheesy prose of angry youth, but what I think is the hopeful speculation that comes with the beginning of middle-age.

Funny Story? Remember?

Ah, yes. So, about, Goddess, twenty years ago now, my brother brought home a friend of his for me to meet and how he had apparently described me was as a person who could be given a word and write a poem about it in the snap of a few fingers. I was cocky enough to shoulder that praise with determination and I met the challenge presented to me by his friend with enthusiasm. Now, granted, a softball word like butterfly is not precisely a difficult thing to knit verse about in a pretty shape. I did this, or I wrote what I wrote, and I read it a scant few minutes later and forever after that to this particular friend I was the “Butterfly Motherfucker”, a moniker he kept calling me until being recalled from Afghanistan from his third tour and he couldn’t for the life of him remember who I, or his former best friend, my brother was.


Well, it was funny until it wasn’t?

The War Is Waged As It Must Be, At Least I Tell Myself That Every Time I Feel The Knife Slip Deeper In

So I lied, I’ll write another one today.

It’s a little bit before four in the afternoon and it is deceptively warmer than you think it would be outside. Mind you, I would say that and have said that, when the temperature dares to go past 55, but I mean, we all have our likes after all. I am working into what I want to say, so this is the small talk/foreplay section of the writing for those of you unfamiliar with the rambling, half-assed way I make a point I want to make and don’t want to just call someone a cunt or something.

There are things in this world I will never understand because they are not mine to get. There are other things that I will never understand because I think what I am trying to understand is broken somehow and I am never going to get the gist of the thing because it is not presented as it should be.

I love pretty much everyone at first blush. Not quite bromance/sismance/theymance kind of love, but the deep, respectful love I feel that you should have for your fellow human beings kind of love. I love you until you give me a reason not to love you, and even then I will forgive you eleven times out of every three. I hate not having that feeling towards people so, sadly, I have a massively developed White Knight syndrome wherein I feel the need to save people from being in the least bit unhappy in any way. It doesn’t matter most times if they don’t want me to “save” them from the situation, my mind is very task-oriented at a certain point and the only thing left is The Goal. The Answer. The Fix. The Thing.

Yeah, it is that bad.

I know, logically, that there are simple problems, even those that I can, do, and am asked to help with, that simply don’t have answers as easy as the scantron during standardized tests would have you believe. However, logic is often the first thing I cast aside so that I can feel my way to the root of the problem and rip the poison from the source.

This isn’t based on gender, age, or any other kind of descriptor that people like to apply to themselves and others, this is something that I do for anyone and everyone.

Therein, of course, layeth the rub.

You know the old saw about pouring from an empty cup, right? I am more of a fill everyone up with what is my cup first, you know, to tide them until *I* find the tea that goes into their cup. I never think of myself because, well, no. I don’t do that thing, except of course for the glaringly humiliating examples of me doing only that scattered throughout my lifetime. I want everyone to be happy, through this, you betcha, I get my happy.

So, as I sit here desperately trying to find a way to do precisely what I should not be doing for a person I love more than family, I am trying to balance loyalty over sanity, friendship over needs I do not want to acknowledge, and of course, love for myself over love for others.

It is not going to end well, no matter what, but sometimes you have to burn the motherfucker down and see if you can pull some phoenix action out of your ass after the fact to see if there is anything left, or them or I, to salvage for the next day, the next thing, the next battle of the Internal Fear and the External Gifting.

Today Is About Her

I think I fell in love with her the first time as I was sitting with her on the phone while at work. She was having a massive panic attack and was literally under the counter at Tim Horton’s where she worked because of course, she worked at a Tim Horton’s. She was so scared, so very alone at some hour far past the time where most people get coffee in the middle of the night. She wasn’t scared of being there alone, or robbers or any of that, she was simply scared and she called me to help her with that. Being me, I made her laugh. I made her laugh until we realized she had used the store phone to call me long distance, back when things like that mattered and she promised to call me when she got home to make sure I know she was okay.

A few hours later, home with who I would later call my Elder Duck, she had just got out of the shower and drank some of the coffee she had been making all night and called me. It was a much more subdued, yet pleasant conversation. I am pretty sure she was embarrassed by calling me earlier, but I never once ribber her for it, up until the day she died I never mentioned it again actually. We talked about how abysmally cold it was where we both were, I was in Kansas at the time, and all we wanted to do was curl up with one another and get some much-needed sleep for both of us.

No sex talk, no flirting, just a scared human being calling another human being who they thought would be able to help them through a tough time.

The entirety of the time we were married it is what we excelled at with one another. Even if we were outrageously pissed at the other, which admittedly happened a lot more than it should have, if there was ever a point where one of us went past a place, we would simply know. Whether it was a look, a hitch in the voice, or suddenly needing to leave the room. Not out of anger, but fear.

We would stop and just be there for one another.

So on Mother’s Day that is what I am choosing to focus on, that is what I am choosing to allow into my mind and my heart, and I am pretty sure it will get me through the day just fine.