Day 194: Slip Away

Kathryn Calder of the New Pornographers writes lovely songs and she has a beautiful voice. She also makes great videos, like this one. I have long been fascinated by the nexus of rabbits and space travel. It is a largely untapped cultural goldmine. It is beautifully explored here.

When I worked at Borders Books and Music #9 in Pittsburgh, I combed the remainders for hidden gems. Astro Bunnies was a great find. It is about bunnies who travel to space on a rocket ship. I read it as whimsy at first, but now I believe it is true, as corroborated by Kathryn Calder’s video. If so many people are coming to that place– bunnies in space– then there must be more to it than idle fantasy.

I read that book to Miles. I read it to Owen. I will read it to anyone who wants to read it with me. It sparked my imagination and I think it was one of those little contributors that helped shape Miles in a little way.

Day 193: Turn a Light On

Dear Miles

I dreamed a vivid dream about you. I was in New York in my dream. I dropped off hedge clippers at a friend’s house because she needed them. I walked through the streets, the streets of a residential neighborhood. The weather in my dream was the same as the weather that evening in real life– a perfectly cool spring evening, just past dusk and into the early hours of the night. I walked around town and enjoyed the weather and the flowers blooming everywhere.

In my dream, I was walking alone in the dark. The road or sidewalk was dimly lit by a few streetlights, pitch darkness beyond the reach of the lights. I looked down the sidewalk a bit in front of me and I saw you. You were in a red shirt. You took your big steps down the walkway and looked over your shoulder at me through your long golden hair. We made eye contact and you acknowledged me but you gave me a look that said you did not want me around. You were with someone else who walked not far behind you. It was Kent maybe, and I am not sure why that’s how I remember it.

You did not want to be with me. At first, I was hurt because I was so happy to see you. I was so happy to know you were around. In my mind, I thought, Miles is back. Miles is back. And I was so happy. It occurred to me that the whole accident and misery since then was an illusion, a fantasy. It was untrue. You were just gone. You never died. You were just away and now you were back.

I was sad that you did not want to be around me, but then my sadness turned to happiness. I was happy because it confirmed that you were you and you were alive. Of course you did not want to be around me—you were a teenager in New York with your friends. A young man on an adventure in the city. You didn’t want your dad around. It confirmed in my mind that it was you and you were back being Miles. I was happy, happy to let you go and enjoy your time in New York. I stopped and watched you both walk down the sidewalk, past the edge of the light and into the dark.

I woke up and it was still spring but you were not around. The reality of where I was sank back into me as I lay in bed. It was spring and the air was fragrant and cool, but there was no Miles. You were still gone, my missing boy. I will have this dream together and I will forever be Prometheus waking in the morning to a plight repeated.

Love you. Miss you.