I *think* poems in the car
On the toilet seat
At the opening of my sleep
Because
I don’t really know why
For some reason these places conduct (produce) flow
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Nothing
The joy of
Being able to hold hands for the longest time with someone you love
Even as it seems still like borrowed time
And you know [on Monday] you’ll part
To freeze time
I would
What I would
Do
What I would do
To turn back time
To do it all over again
Even if we were to make the same mistakes
Say the same words
Do the same things
What I would do to see \italicize{that} smile [I cannot remember] 4 inches from my face
4.15.2019
The first half is about familial love
The second half is about romantic love
I wrote it on the ride back from The Berkshires as I was cherishing the last moments of holding Joanne’s hands in the backseat of the car with Mom driving and Jocelyn sitting up front.
Until the next time.
I miss mom already.
This trip wasn’t restful, as there were so many things I was recovering from, and other unsettling things coming in anew. It was cathartic. That is the most accurate word.
It is well.
God is good.
Visiting Jo in Cambridge
This photo is of Joanne and I wrapping up our last night together on campus at MIT.
Joanne is studying for Midterms
I was getting through the book I’m currently reading.
We do a late night of independent reading and get home close to 12 to sleep.
Joanne was under the weather during my visit, so we spent the time cooking, baking, and talking. We rarely touched our phones.
I spent my time here reading and filming Joanne, and tried to keep my head off of work.
Joanne occupied herself with studying, journaling, and trying to memorize Romans 8 and then have me test her on it (… too many times). I sauntered through the rooms of her Cambridge apartment to Romans… woke up to Romans… slept to Romans….
We also had a lovely afternoon of opera listening thanks to Alexa, and chatting all things classical.
[Joanne wields a much more expansive knowledge of opera than I (I keep mixing up my Bellinis, my Puccinis, *sigh*), although I arguably have the stronger generalist knowledge in classical music as a genre.]
I didn’t know who Maria Callas was and I half expected her to jump up from the bed she was reclining in with her iPad (her study tool) and exclaim: “YOU HEATHEN!”. I feel with you reading this and you not knowing her, you would think this an exaggerated assumption on my part. It’s really not. This is very much her.
Maybe she wouldn’t exclaim it.
She’d more probably
1. jump sitting up
2. look at me coldly, and
3. pronounce on me in a very matter-of-fact, but utterly damning way, “you heathen”
I laugh writing this on my Amtrak back to the city. This is she.
Joanne is incredibly bright and intense. and cute. and intimidating.. She is both the younger sister that needs my emotional and physical protection, but also admonishes me about my low standards of living (I won’t go into the details) and goes on entire speeches on the decline of good values and manners in today’s society. I chuckle just thinking of her crazy rainbow colored personality.
I paint an odd picture of her with just this anecdote, but if you came to know her, you would love her.
Alright, back to the myriad of product & research files am reviewing.
xSoo
