December 15, 2005

Holidays

I offer a blurry view from our apartment window through spotted glass. I shot this photograph the evening of the Illumination of Richmond, which consisted of the city flipping the on switch to its skyline, with lights outlining each building. It wasn't as spectacular as we hoped but it woke up Richmond for an evening. This view faces south, but the city was illuminated west of our building.*My dreams in Richmond seem more lucid and epic than ever before. I mention dreams on occasion, and my memory thereof, because it's more unusual to remember them as frequently as I do, at least, from what I've read. And remembering them indicates stress, I've read. But what stress? What caused me to dream last night that Craig and I were scheduled to meet in an airport to fly to Waikiki, only, painted in cursive red across the body of the plane read "Wyki," a shortened name of our destination? And when I arrived at the airport, which was vastly different than any airport I've ever been in (I've been in quite a few in my day, I'd say...Detroit, Indianapolis, St. Louis, Hartford, Syracuse, Atlanta, Boston Logan, Phoenix, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Richmond, to name a few...oh, and Barbados, to include International travel...) Craig was not there as planned, and somehow I learned that he had overdosed on illegal drugs. The panic and fear that swept over me upon receipt of this knowledge is unforgivable. I do not forgive my mind for playing these sick subconscious tricks on me. I stood around wondering if I could save him, if I could get to him somehow, or should I just travel on to "Wyki" and wait for him to arrive, sober and clean. This dream coupled with the orange light that pours into our window in the middle of the night from the street lamps (or parking lot lamps) is a dangerous combination, because then I struggle to get back to sleep. When I dream Craig is in danger, I wake abruptly to see if he's breathing, if he is alright. What's strangest about this dream is Craig has never even done illegal drugs, much less come close to an O.D. It must be fragments of James Frey's book (which I anticipate finishing when we travel to see our families next week) and bits of nervous Holiday cheer pooling in my imagination to collide in a nightmarish manifestation.*Aside from the dreams that keep coming, I'm ecstatic about our Holiday travel itinerary. This marks our first Christmas together. Together translates as We're not buying plane tickets to see each other, we're splitting the Holidays between our two families, we shopped for gifts in the same stores in the same city, we get to be that envious couple I always see standing close to one another in an airport with their bags at their feet traveling to identical destinations. Maybe my dream was partially fueled by my overexcitement to get to be with Craig this Christmas. Our arrangement is not getting old to say in the least, not to me. Instead, each new adventure is prompting me to further understand why he is my companion. This weekend we plan to drive to Washington D.C., a short hour and a half drive from Richmond. Spending the day in D.C. with Craig will be indescribable. We love cities together in a way I can't explain. And being there, and here, and everywhere with him makes life much sweeter. For the Holidays, my wish for everyone I love is that he or she can experience the colorful glow of being next to the right person. Our story is long and spans a number of states, a number of regions of the country, even, and includes delirious laughter, exhausting arguments, the occasional stupid mistake and a lot of tight hugs, and I feel increasingly settled with our happy ending as it unfolds. The Holidays present me with an opportune instant to be this sentimental, now, don't they?*The gift shopping is complete; we must wrap and ship. We must pack for a week away from our new home. We depart Richmond next Wednesday the 21st for Chicago. We will spend the days leading up to Christmas with his parents in Whiting, IN. Christmas Day we will leave in a rental car for Indianapolis (Greenwood) to see my parents (for the final time, I suspect, in Greenwood, seeing as they are moving west of Ann Arbor, Michigan after the first of the year...an interesting transition for them after 14 years in Indiana). One night we will also have dinner with Craig's sister and her husband, and mid-week we depart on a plane from Indianapolis. I doubt I will be able to sneak onto any computers and narrate the adventure midstream, but I will return with details, as usual. I'm toting along my journal from AB that reads "Atrocious Grammar and Misspelled Words" across the cover, or something similar. It's hilarious. I admitted to her that it is only a comical gift for someone like one of us who attempts desperately and painstakingly to dodge bad grammar and misusage of they're, their and there, and it's and its, and your and you're. And so on. She agreed. My thoughts are with her today and through the weekend; she lost a grandparent. The Holidays are no good times to lose loved ones (no times are good times for it). So, along with hoping the best for those I love, and fearing dreams and anticipating Christmas and wanting to just shove Craig's gifts under his nose so I can stop with the secrets charade (I hate keeping surprises from him, or from anyone, for that matter!) I am also sympathetic toward my good friend as she and her husband attempt to travel from Georgia to Indiana out of today's ice storm to tend to her family. The Holidays do this thing to all of us: provide our emotions with a light dusting of different kinds, happy, frightened, pleased, loved, loving, sad, tired. It's a matter of just getting through and enjoying the moments that we can.

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