Wednesday, October 14, 2009

asses, elbows and longing

It is common for me to lose and/or forget passwords. It is also common for the retrieval process to frustrate my patience-deprived soul something fierce. I am always grateful that I have enough sense not to have to go around my ass to get to my elbow (as the saying goes) which does shorten the process a little.
My patience is especially short now because my Sweet Darling is several time zones and thousands of miles away.
I miss him not because of the big things, not for sex or the afternoon kiss hello and morning kiss goodbye; but the tiny things I can still see out of the corner of my eye.

I was setting a new frequency on my car radio and my mind unreeled an old movie of him setting all of the buttons on my '86 Fiero, those deft fingers dancing across the face of the tuner. He is so talented with those hands and fingers and agile mind that his engineering skills are in demand in places and circumstances far from our small town.
Back then watching him set those stations was like watching a concert pianist favor a child with a rendition of "Alley Cat" on a tiny spinette.

Carrot, our littlest kitten, likes to sit on Charlie and sharpen his claws on Charlie's jeans.
I was washing my face before bed the other night and heard the sound of claws on denim and my heart jumped for a moment - but no, Carrot had found a pair of mine to scratch. Another little thing, a vision of him stroking that tiny orange head and blue eyes meeting blue for a conversation on what a big boy Carrot is becoming.

I miss the sound of him breathing.

I was feeling very bereft yesterday since I had not heard from him in 24 hours. He'd been calling a few times a day until then but had left Honolulu for Midway and patchy communication opportunities. He called late today, almost 48 hours since the last time I'd heard his voice.
He was slightly out of breath; he'd had to ride a bike from the side of the island he was working on to the side that had communication capability. He was nearly giddy with exhaustion and happiness in the hobby that took him so far from me, that was the recreation to his vocation.

My happiness at his joy makes things bearable.