Monthly Archives: April 2014

Beloved Bereft…

All too strange. My Love has fled to distant environs. Far removed from our present domicile. Strange. She is simply…not here.

The house seems…vacant. Bereft. My Love is not here. The boys are elsewhere.

I have the house to myself. Along with three cats and Andi, our wonderful puppy.

But still.

Still, my Love is…not here. She has gone to distant lands, with co-workers, overnight.  For a nursing work conference. Not here. My Beloved will not…be here.

What am I to do?!

I knew this prior to 5pm. I knew my youngest step-son would not be home when I arrived. I did not know my 20 year old step-son would not be home as well. No idea where the hell he is.

And now. And now I am alone. With our pets. Far removed from my Beloved.

At 9:30pm I received a call from my 12 year old. “Can you bring my pillow, the gray one, and my toothbrush? And, oh yeah, my pajamas?’

Who the hell doesn’t remember such important personal articles? Oh yeah, a twelve year old boy. A young man, already pre-conditioned to forget anything pertinent. (Unless of course it has to deal with sports. But then again, that is, ultimately, not pertinent at all.)

Duties removed, my 12 year old firmly ensconced in a house, my 20 year old’s whereabouts still indeterminate, my Beloved’s coordinates wholly known and yet, I feel lonely.

‘Where is my Love? Where is she right now? Why am I not rubbing her feet, or pulling her arm, or massaging her back? Where is she?!’

All too strange.

I miss my Love.

Bereft am I.

It remains the constants of our lives that hold the most import; our morning ritual, our breakfast, our first cup of joe, our third or fourth kiss in the morning, for no reason in particular. Our ‘togetherness.’

It is lovely.

And now.

And now, I do not have that. My Love remains distant. Far removed from me.

It remains strange.

Who will I share ice cream with later? Right before bed time?

Where is she?!

There is no one there to rub her forehead, to breathe deep her unique essence, to fall asleep in exquisite calm knowing my Love is near.

But not tonight.

I miss her. My Julie! Terribly.

Sweet dreams, My Love.

I love you. Infinitely…………………….

With endless love,

Your eternal Paramour,

©Paul Harry Grignon – 2014- All Rights Reserved.

 

Out of the Mouths of Tweens

I drive my 12 year old stepson to school every day and, for the most part, it is a quiet affair. Rarely are any words spoken during this fifteen minute ride.

To break the monotony of silence, sometimes I turn on the radio and listen to the latest codswallop issued by NPRopaganda, yet another publicly-funded station spewing nonsense by corporate shills.

I do, however, enjoy some of their brief segments, on the environment, travels by various people, and other such fascinating facets of what happens in the world.

But when it gets to politics, more specifically the machinations perpetrated by Washington and dispensed by media sycophants or, what some people aptly call the ‘presstitutes’, I have to sit there as I drive and emit a censorious chuckle or two at the sheer hubris and hypocrisy that gushes from pundits, about how the USA is doing so much good in the Ukraine, and that Mr. Putin is the personification of evil. (Do W., Rumsfeld, and Cheney ever come to mind?…)

Anyway, I digress. On this particular batch of bloviated blabber the gabble was about how President O-‘bomb’-a was upset about the stance of Russia, how the situation has become rather grave, and that “…no nation has the right to invade another country. There will be consequences if…” blah, blah, blah. Can you believe such utter lunacy?

Um…does anyone remember Iraq, or Afghanistan, or the myriad of other countries where the US military presently occupies? Does anyone care that Amerika has over 1,000 military bases garrisoning our planet, and have a ring of bases surrounding Russia proper? Is there any possible connection to the vast wealth of fossil fuels lying beneath the Black Sea basin and Washington’s interest in the area, fomenting unrest at every opportunity to disrupt and spread lies and paint Putin as the devil incarnate?

Well, after listening to so much drivel I had to turn the radio off. Mind you, I said all this to my stepson in a fashion that a 12 year old can reasonably grasp. I asked him, ‘So what do you think about the situation between Russia and the US?’ A reasonable query, I imagined, as I thought they must keep up with current events in school (albeit, on a favorable US slant.)

He paused for a minute and said, verbatim: “Did you know that if you close your eyes and try a spoonful of chocolate ice cream, and then try some vanilla ice cream, that you can’t taste the difference?”

His reply to my Ukrainian conundrum caught me off guard. It was my turn to pause and digest what he just said.

“No, no I didn’t know that. That’s pretty cool,” I said.

I just had to smile.

His response was…perfect.

With all the death and destruction and disease and sadness in the world, why not for once just stop and contemplate ice cream?

The rest of the ride was met with silence once again. As he got out, lugging his 80-pound backpack with him, I said my perfunctory “Have a good day!” and he responded with his usual monosyllabic one word rejoinder: “Bye” .

My solitary ride home was lighter though, having rid my mind of the idiocy dictated by monsters of mayhem in pinstripes. A smile still lingered as I thought about the innocence of my stepson on the verge of adolescence.

When I arrived home , even though it was only 7:20 am, I had a dollop of chocolate ice cream. And then I jotted down a quick note, a reminder to buy some vanilla ice cream after work.

©Paul Grignon, 2014-All Rights Reserved.