12.24.23

Lu, you're the only one I'll mention by name. I miss you. The other day I was sick, alone, and watching a strange movie. It's that time of year in New York when the grey days start piling up. Then you called me.

Hello, you said, I'm sitting in my backyard watching the bees pollinate the flowers.

Hearing you say this, hearing your voice, I felt as if someone had opened the window and let the sun in. I could feel the breeze on my face, and the damp heat of Miami on my skin. I was sitting there with you, laughing at the bees and the birds.

Did you get my voicemail? You asked.
I haven't listened to it yet, I said, I decided to just call you back. 
Well listen to it and then call me, you giggled, and hung up. 
I pulled up the voicemail and pressed play. Your voice crackled on and you said: I've underestimated the importance of care. A few moments of silence, then: So important....So important. 

It was so like you to call me and leave voicemails of single lines of thought or poems. I saved it for future reference. I called you back immediately.

Right?? You said. 
Right. I said. 
I wrote a poem for children, you said. 
You mean a poem for all those who identify as children, I replied. 
Speaking of, you said. I've started going to church...and there's always a time right when the sermon ends when the priest invites all the children to come and talk to him. And I always want to go up. 
You should do that, I replied. 
Oh hm. I'll do it next time. 
So you wrote a poem for those who identify as children? 
Yea, you wanna hear it? 
I wanna hear every poem you've ever written, I said.
You said: I wrote this thinking about how I've thought even if my life was different, like if my dad was alive, that I'd end up becoming the same person I am now. But I realized that's not true. So here's the poem: 

(Aside: I hope you don't mind that I'm sharing it with everyone here. But they deserve to see it.) 

"Me:
Who I am is very unieque. 
I really wouldn't have been the same me if it weren't for one thing. 
One thing that did happen to be. 
So now I'm a different one and only me. 
Obviously. 
I have many me's. 
But this me 
you see, 
Is especially 
Unique. 
There could have been so many other versions." 

After you read your poem, I remembered that sometimes I feel like you're the only person in the world who's managed to grow up while keeping the kid in you alive. There's no way to end this entry because the two of us have no end. Happy New Year, Lu. Every extra year on Earth is a good one with you in it.