On June 16th, 2012, eight years ago today, I married the woman I love. I was fortune to have found her and to have shared the past decade of my life with her. Our lives have changes significantly since we met - it seems like lifetimes ago that we exchanged our vows under an unexpected swarm of dragonflies (which we have since adopted as a symbol of our union), and in some ways it has been a lifetime. We don't live in the same small apartment or even the same state we started in and we've both changed jobs and industries multiple times. We've shared fantastic travel experiences and weathered challenges including recessions, snowstorms, hurricanes, protests and more recently a global pandemic. And through it all I could not hope to have found a more adaptable, genuine and supportive partner. I am constantly reminded that it takes a very special and patient kind of person to deal with me for ten minutes let alone a full decade, but she nods and smiles and shares the ride with me, even when my trajectory and train of thought go off the rails and crash through terrain that neither of us are familiar with. For that I am eternally grateful.
The piece below was previously published in my ebook of poetry, "Turning the Stars." It's every bit as relevant now as it was when I first wrote it. Having a true partner, I have learned, means having someone who accepts all of your quirks and oddities and history, even if it doesn't always make sense.
Young Summer Gibberish
We were kids
without fences,
without unlimited
text messaging -
who needed that, when
a magic eight ball
could tell us
all we needed to know -
to call someone or not.
Text-based computer games -
pale green glowing cursor
(a green you never see
anymore, except on
monitors in old movies),
awaiting our commands
while the high definition
wilderness behind
our friends' houses
stretched across the planet.
We learned
kabbalistic quack
Cracker Jack magic tricks
to cure migraines
in dust mote choked
sunbeams through the rafters
of a day camp barn loft –
one hand on the forehead
and one hand behind the head
palms facing each other
"visualize streams
of deep blue and green and
aqua."
Maybe when I tell you
all these things, like a deluge of
verbal pop cap candy fizz trivia, you'll
tilt your head to a cascade of dark hair;
your burnt umber eyes
hanging slightly ajar.
Baffled, both of us
for a moment until
you put your hand in mine,
letting me know
you don't mind
my gibberish.
Wow! A paean to marriage and a love song to one in particular! Beautiful and moving and, best of all, true!
ReplyDeleteThank you very much - I appreciate that and I am glad you enjoyed it!
DeleteOne more thing. americanus should be Americana!
ReplyDeleteAmericana does indeed work, although it has a specific meaning as "objects related to American culture." In keeping with the Terra Incognita, I felt that the Americanus made more sense - like a specific species of unknown lands, as if they were a living thing (which in some ways they are). Americanus also has some unique history and meaning - it was a pen name used by Benjamin Franklin and Junius Americanus was a pen name used by diplomat and author Arthur Lee. Given the literary and philosophical connotations, I felt like Americanus was the right fit.
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