AN INTERLUDE

~an interlude  

Janis,
Someone said that the universe can be found on the tip of a butterfly’s tongue. When someone speaks like this we can pass it off as just a bit of poetry. Or some may just smirk at it as nonsense. Or, it could be a way of attempting to speak about something that is so intangible that it can’t be spoken of directly. 
I mean, that’s the point isn’t it? What is a breeze; a rainbow; grief; love? Where was I before that cold night in January 1946 when my father, age 19, and my mother 20 y.o. ‘got together’? Where was I? When I was born later that October, where were you?  
You said to me once–(that summer, 2014, just before things all fell down), carrying your boot in one hand, and your small bag of sea treasures in your other hand, your face near tears, because I hadn’t known you were stuck in the mud of the sea you were exploring, as the tide came in. I smile, not that you got stuck, but now, when I think of you that day. Your mind, your brain, distorted and receding much like the tide that had left that mud behind for you to get stuck in, and only weeks before you would leave our home to reside in a locked Unit. “Where were you!?” you asked, walking up the hill. Hurt and frightened. I had let you down. After all–I should have been right beside you as I always had been.  But…I wasn’t; that one time, and it scared you.
Somewhere before time, we were entangled and waiting; we were somewhere beyond mere language, beyond any words. But, we were there together and found each – the other. So that when I was born that October 1946, I didn’t know that we were bound together in ways that have no words, or that I was waiting… Some years later, in October 1961, you came into the sophomore classroom, on Lewiston Street, Mechanic Falls High School at about 8:30 a.m., and spoke a few words to the class, announcements from the principal, Mr. Gouin – morning news for the school. You blushed and squirmed from foot to foot. I was at the back of the room watching you and seeing your familiar manner, and hearing your familiar, soft voice, the familiar way you lifted one hand off the page you were reading from, to touch your eyebrow, then brush your hair from your face. I recognized you. I found myself wanting to speak, I wanted to say “Hey! Look, it’s me.” I didn’t really think that, but that was the sensation I had. I recognized you. Instead, I spoke, I mumbled some stupid words to get you to look at me. When you looked up your eyes met mine and it was clear. Neither of us could know all that would happen after that. But somehow we both knew. ‘It’s you.’
So, today I’m writing this letter to you to include inside this book. Today it’s February 2020. In a few days, we will have been married for 54 years. Tag on about 3 years that we were simply in love as kids, that’s 57 years. I’m sorry that you will not get to read this book or this letter, but it’s okay. It’s now at the tip of the butterfly’s tongue and can never be erased. A lot has happened. Good things, and things that were difficult. Three children and three grandchildren later, we’re still together. Spring comes and the grass grows by itself. 
I visited you today. You smiled, but couldn’t speak. I held your hand and kissed you. You nodded. I don’t know why, but it made some sense to me that you may possibly have known me. I drove home and on the way, decided to write this letter to you. I understand your life was difficult, Janis, and I want you to know that no matter what, I have loved you. You are my only girl. 
What’s next? We had decided that we would grow old together. Romantic idea. And I suppose we’ve done that. You’ve always pushed me a little to keep writing. Good or bad it’s my creation. That’s what I do. And I was so proud of the art that you produced. Some of it will be around me always. Some I will give to others. You were just beginning to find your place in this world. I have to tell you that I used your ‘Six Leaves’ for the cover of this book. It’s my favorite creation of yours–a small beautiful creation, I found you once, I will find you again. Until then.
Love, Bobby~