I love you

June 2013

I told someone I loved him who doesn't love me back.

And yes, I chose the lamest method of communication that exists currently--the phone. Worse...a text. Yes, it flies in the face of all expert advice regarding "I love you" etiquette. But I know he doesn't love me back. So why set myself up for face to face rejection? I settled for virtual rejection. But I had to do it. Even though it hurt. Badly. Knowing I wouldn't hear it back. And then not hearing it. Pain down to my fingertips. I'm glad we weren't face to face honestly. And the words do mean as much. I still don't regret.

I walk around telling people I love them all the time. I appreciate the people in my life. I love them in a million different ways. I want the people I care about to understand that I value them, that they are special to me. That they are special period. Literally, the other day I looked at a woman I work with and said "Susie, I love you very much". And I do. I appreciate how hard she works and her kindness. She helps me. So I love her.

When I was 21 and my grandfather was dying in the hospital, I begged the nursing staff to hold the phone to his ear"--I love you the most Gamps". He was in a state of delirium. I don't think he heard me. I said what I wanted to say, but he never knew his true impact on my life. My telling him that was a "thank you" for not hurting me--it was a thank you for being safe and loving me safely and purely. It still hurts that he never really knew.

When my grandmother became ill shortly after Gamps died, I wrote her a poem on what I knew would be her last Christmas. I don't think she really understood it. I don't think she read poetry. And not everyone understands my poems. I am glad I had the chance to share something with her. But I used my poem as a "veil" of sorts. It's just hard to tell people that they are giants in your world when there isn't  a dire circumstance. Maybe its just hard for me. She died 3 months later.

And then my favorite brother in law, Josh. I was always begging my husband to call and see if he could meet us out. At Christmas, when the children and I were in the car and his favorite song came on the radio--we would call him and sing it loudly, laughing. He knew I loved opera and one Sunday evening at a family dinner he gave me a CD-- "Opera Babes". He died 9 days later. So special--but he didn't know how much I thought of him. That he was a favorite. It is still the most painful loss I have experienced.

And finally there is my best friend from childhood who is dying from a brain disease. I haven't spoken to her in a over a year.  I told her over and over how much I loved her But like alzheimers, her disease has ripped her of the truth. She became angry at me a while ago and won't return my calls. This happens with Huntington's Disease.  The victims get angry for reasons you can't understand. I haven't been the best at showing up at her doorstep to try to make amends. But its hard to beg for someone's love--to say "I love you I love you I love you" when you don't know what they will say. And they have possibly forgotten who you are to them and they are to you. I have no peace in this part in my life. So I certainly want to embrace those around me who are here and present.

I say "I love you" to those who I love. So that they hear before they are sick and before they die. Before they leave. Because people leave. And you are left with the love you always meant to give them withering in your hand. And then you are reminded that you should have taken better care of that love which is a gift and bigger than both of you.  I think there is mystery and magic behind relationships and feelings. I believe in that magic. So I embrace it and say "I love you".

I love him. My chest is full when I think of him. He is like Christmas morning. I like to ponder his intricate brain. He is kind when I need him. He seems to appreciate the imperfect me. I like his sweet, earthy scent and feeling the curve of his chest when I run my hand across it. His skin on my skin. And there is just that "thing" that no one can really explain. People say chemistry boils down to science. no way. Magic.

To not say "I love you" when I do...would be ignoring everything I've learned. So here I am...standing with two cupped hands. It is who I am.

Before the Forward

Michelle has asked me to write the forward for her book. I know nothing about writing "forwards"...I haven't even googled it.

Writing these few sentences makes my skin start to ache. Putting words on a page makes it real and permanent. But I'm going to pull it together because Chelle is the one living with Huntington's Disease. She is the one who struggles now to walk and to talk. So I need to be her voice despite it being the most acutely painful experience in my life....watching my best friend/sister live with a terminal illness.

Where are you God? Yeah you. I'm furious.

How can this disease exist that peels everything away from a person slowly? Over the course of 20 years everything just dissolves from your grasp. People, job, house, car, independence, body, mind, reading, voice--the disease violates a life and leaves everyone behind naked and aching.

So I will write this forward as a fuck you to Huntington's. Because I won't let it take Michelle's spirit or mine.