I wanted you to know that I love you.
I wanted you to know that I still love you.
I wanted you to know that, even with everything that has happened between us, and even not between us, but between those others who we loved or love, that I still love you.
I wanted you to know that there is a piece of my life that is missing because you aren’t a part of it like you used to be.
I wanted you to know that even when my words have been infrequent or nonexistent, my heart still speaks; it still loves you and misses you.
I wanted you to know that even when you’re gone, I will still love you.
I wanted you to know that I will still love you when I’m gone, whenever and however that might happen, or whatever that might mean.
I wanted you to know that even though you’re gone, I still love you.
I wanted you to know that I haven’t taken you for granted.
I wanted you to know that I haven’t been uninterested in you and your life just because I haven’t asked you questions about you and your life…I was giving you space.
I wanted you to know that the others still ask about you, still think about you, still wonder about you.
I wanted you to know that it’s not too late.
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry that I wasn’t what you needed me to be when you needed me to be different than I was.
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry I didn’t grow or change fast enough to make the difference that you needed me to make.
I wanted you to know that I was there when you thought I wasn’t, but I didn’t know how to make myself more known to you.
I wanted you to know that my anger was really sadness…or shame, but I didn’t know how to express it as such.
I wanted you to know that when I seemed to be distant and unconcerned, I was really hiding inside myself because I was hurting, too.
I wanted you to know that I never meant to hurt you…even though it appears that I didn’t try hard enough in meaning to not hurt you.
I wanted you to know that there were times that I was selfish and wasn’t thinking about you and others, and I’m sorry for being that way.
I wanted you to know that I know the past cannot be undone and that some things cannot be fixed.
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry that I hurt you when I did what I did.
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry that I hurt you when I said what I said and wrote what I wrote.
I wanted you to know that I will understand if you can’t forgive me, if you don’t forgive me, if you won’t forgive me.
I wanted you to know that I still love you.
I wanted you to know that what you did to the others hurts me, too, and I don’t know what to do about it.
I wanted you to know that regardless of the decisions you made yesterday, or last week, or last month, or last year, I still love you.
I wanted you to know that regardless of the decisions you make right now, or tomorrow, I will still love you.
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry I didn’t protect you when I should have.
I wanted you to know that I’m sorry I didn’t speak-up for you when I should have.
I wanted you to know that I don’t expect you to be like everyone else; I love you for who you are.
I wanted you to know that I don’t like the distance that exists between us, the obstacles of time and place and not-talking and isolation that have grown like fences and rivers and mountains and dotted lines on maps…like boundaries that split and divide us.
I wanted you to know that I love you, still.
***This is a Favorite Re-post from May, 2010.
He snapped alive with a sulfurous urging in his hallowed place, reflecting then on those around him. He pondered, considered, and postulated about what they and he might be. “What am I that, or who, is able to exist only softly, attached for life to my waxen, wick-ed anchor, knowing only what…I don’t know. Of what am I comprised? What constituent parts have been arrested to make my whole? What molecules render me soft enough to flee like a thought in a slight breeze? What have I to do, but to live and reflect? Who is to know? Who.
In a dark room, were I to be placed upon a post to shine from its center, would I be as bright as if I were placed next to a mirror at the side of the room, with only half of my light being real and shining as from my soul? Is that solitary, yellow dart of my being enough to light in half, though reflected, as though from that post in the middle of the otherwise dark room? What design orders this? Why do I live only anchored here and not aloft in the sky? Why do those around draw away from me as if in fear of harm?
I am a solitary, gilded whisper of light, shining upon those from whom I am ordered, without will, or otherwise. My stepward cousins and unrelative conflagrations burn with an unintelligible force, magnified and multiplied beyond reason, my small frame. What soft caress would touch my delicate skin? What gentle lace would adorn me? In the place of never-thought would it live beyond my kiss. It is unknown. For it is, and not being. If a scientist were to analyze my being, would he find only the mist of paraffin, or the shadowing remnants of tallow, rendered from the fatted calf? What am I? And why does my touch bite? I cannot win friends; I cannot feel the embrace of another. If I am drawn nigh unto my own kind I am lost and shall never be regained unto myself. Am lost.”
This is a Favorite Repost from September, 2009.
…and robbed her treasures…hidden things that meant nothing until they were found…and now they’re gone, and gone away…the precious mystery revealed and now nothing remains…save the ever weeping scar….
They rage sometimes in distant echoes, those ghosts of living in by-gone years…
…they sing and howl, sometimes, at atrocities lean and harsh that were wrought upon the land, scars that remain in hardened shadow form, of skeletons in brick and steel….
…and when the sun is down, they wonder in silent tones, sometimes, as evening light creeps low, as tiny eyes blink awake in their hollowed places, not hallowed…
…carts ring and clang on rails laid, earth’s treasures brought from below, man’s hand and mind are joined, sometimes, from pick to truck to refiner’s fire, to jewelers’ purses to ladies’ hands to settled estates, and then…
…and come around again to distant echoes and ghosts of living in by-gone years….
I have had this blog with WordPress and another site for over two years now. During this time, I have seen blogger-award badges or symbols posted on various writers’ and photographers’ blog pages and wondered what it would take for someone to receive such an award. Well, this past week I discovered how it happens. Kerry Leibowitz from Lightscapes Nature Photography Blog presented me with the Versatile Blogger award.
My first reaction was one of being stunned…I couldn’t believe it. My second reaction was that of quiet wonder. How could it be? I looked at the other sites that Kerry nominated and was touched that he would name me among them as possibly deserving such an award. After looking at the other sites, I went back to Kerry’s blog and scrolled through his posts and marveled again and again at the beauty of his photography…and wondered again how or why he would choose me and my blog for such an award. I could continue on for another couple of paragraphs at my amazement of Kerry’s selecting me, but I’ll turn that off for now and simply say “Thank you,” to Kerry for his thoughtfulness and consideration. Again, I am touched…and honored. Thank you, Kerry.
Within the WordPress community, there are “rules” or stipulations that accompany accepting this and other awards. For the Versatile Blogger Award, the recipient must:
1. Thank the award giver and link back to them in your post,
2. Share seven things about yourself,
3. Pass this award along to 15 recently discovered blogs you enjoy reading, and
4. Contact your chosen bloggers to notify them of the award.
For #1 listed above, I have already thanked Kerry and provided a link back to his beautiful blog.
For #2, the following are seven things that you may or may not already know about me from having read my blog:
* I have been married to my high-school sweetheart for over 30 years,
* My wife and I have six children and five grandchildren,
* My favorite authors are Cormac McCarthy and John Steinbeck,
* It only took me 14 years to complete my B.S. in Sociology from Arizona State University…between raising the six children and the rest of life that happened in between semesters and years,
* Before moving to Salt Lake City and becoming an avid hiker in the nearby Wasatch Mountains, I lived in the desert that is Phoenix, Arizona and was an avid racquetball player,
* I used to be a police 9-1-1 operator and dispatcher,
* I find venereal disease to be fascinating. 🙂
For #3, I nominate the following blogs for the Versatile Blog Award:
* Mike’s Look at Life – a brilliant and down-to-earth perspective on real life, the part that’s not always pretty, but real, the part that informs our existence as humans and the trials and joys that complete our lives…with some beautiful photos to boot.
* Travels with The Blonde Coyote – science writer and photographer Mary Caperton Morton provides insight on many of the world’s natural marvels and treats the reader to compelling photographs of the incredible locations that her free-lance writing career and personal travels take her.
* Farm House Stories – Cait shares stories and photos about living in a farm-house in Ontario…captivating photos with thought-provoking quotations.
* The Lantern Room – Meanderer invites us to follow her almost spiritual journey into nature as she captures images that still the heart and encourage us to be “in the moment” and aware of our surroundings.
* Shietree – this is Helen McClory’s photographic blog of her Scottish homeland with her almost poetic descriptions of where she traveled to take the photos…with occasional references to her in-progress novel’s characters’ emotional states or thoughts if they might view the landscapes with us…so beautiful.
* Sarah Horrigan Photography – stunning and moving photography from Sarah’s family and life in England.
* Season’s Light – Dovesgold’s poetry has an alluring rhythm and word choice that reminds me of olde-tyme chants from another age, kind of raw and mysterious…and beautiful…with photos of flowers and nature that calm the spirit.
* Street Inspired – street-level photography by a travel-junkie university student who loves graffiti and street art.
I know that’s not 15 blogs, but I would have a couple more to list if they hadn’t also just received the award from Kerry – James Brandon O’Shea and the Poetic Aperture Blog…incredibly beautiful words and photographs in both.
Thank you again, Kerry.