a harsh interlude

A brief interjection in this blog's chronological order to introduce my readers to the realities of life and love.

Location: Somewhere above Texas

Accompanied by humility, patience has never been my greatest attribute. As far back as I can remember, I have been anxiously waiting glory and fame, perhaps this is what really has encouraged me to start writing and publicizing my voice through the massive network of online distribution. On the other hand, for all of my impatience, I still have little beyond an array of international travel experiences to show for years spent drifting in and out of formal employment.

So here I sit, somewhere flying over the State of Texas, wondering where my feet will truthfully land next. The past six months have felt like a nomadic excursion having taken me to Maui, Hyderabad, Jodhpur, Colombo, Shanghai, Guatemala, and now to Los Angeles before I can rest my head at my home in Portland again. Of this year, I have spent a whopping three weeks or so at home; I blame my impatience for this as well. I do not have the patience to sit in Portland and wait for a new project, to wait for economic recovery, nor to twiddle my thumbs in attempts to scrounge up business while spending money at local coffee shops. I am thankful to have an outlet, to have a family business that can use my youth, my spirit, my creativity, and my mind. I am also thankful for the extraordinarily supportive wife that I have been blessed with.

Photo courtesy of Rodolfo Walsh

Take a step back five years past and a different man would have been writing this blog, a different man would have been racing to find his path; the foundation that supports my efforts today was still in process of being laid. The moon passed outside shedding glimpses of lights along the walls and I lay awake with thoughts racing not certain that life would ever be the same for me. Earlier that day I was en route to Boise, Idaho; my mother had just been admitted to the hospital by McCall’s Doctor Harris, the father of an old high school acquaintance. Her mental condition had led to degradation in her health through a mixture of self-hatred eating disorders caused by the shattering divorce from her shithead of a second husband; worried, I flew as soon as I could get out from work. I landed in Salt Lake City and moments later my world was shattered.

We had three wonderful weeks spent in passion and curiosity traipsing through the villages and islands of Thailand. My father was eager to expand our business beyond the antiques from India that we had been purchasing for years; through a connection from my good friend Christopher Yarrow, I thought Thailand would yield an assortment of wonderful antiques for our business. I was wrong, but at least Kate and I enjoyed one of the loveliest trips of our lives thus far. Lush jungles, elaborate temples, scooter rentals, mountain hikes, and painful Thai massages were only a glimpse into our adventures that were soon followed by Kate’s walking along a platform to receive her medical school diploma and a short trip to visit family in Bolivia with stopovers in Peru and Ecuador on our way back.

Yes, we were really living it up and the whole world seemed open to our reach.

I have for a long time held this odd, but strange belief in the balance of life in the world. It is as though the world wants to see benefits or increases in happiness through small steps and large steps throw everything out of balance requiring it to retract and pull from you what it has already bestowed. What life had in store for us was groundbreaking.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, in between tears understanding slowly crept into place. At the counter for Delta, my tears couldn’t stop as I handed my credit card over to pay for a return trip straight back to Portland. On the phone with my mother, I could not hold back the worry in my mind. Sitting in a hospital bed, my mother was strong for me and told me to forget my coming to Boise; she would be fine and I should get home to my love because Kate needs me and I need her.

I arrived late, shared a cab with a gentleman on my plane and I fretted over the fates and what those despondent sisters were brewing. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I slid my key into the door lock and slowly turned the knob. I had hoped she would be resting, perhaps dreaming of a better, brighter future than what the news foretold.

She awoke with the door, I dropped my bags on the floor quickly and slid my shoes off my feet to get into bed and held her head close to my heart while we both sobbed. She recounted to me the fears of her childhood always worried that her mother would pass away since the time she was born, how she used to fall asleep near her mother’s bed just to be close by to enjoy every moment she had of her mother’s love and to return as much as any child can know to do at that age. We knew the following weeks would unfold both positive and negative possibilities, but when you face the threat of losing all to an ailment such as cancer, nothing but negatives seem to surface.

Photo courtesy of Rodolfo Walsh

The ensuing weeks consisted of doctor’s appointments, the immediate start of high dose chemotherapy, and a lot of mind wrenching, both of us wishing that we had given more attention to the signs we had found earlier and yet tried to justify as anything but the worst possibility. That was when I thought the world, that Allah or God or whatever higher being there may be, had only my best interests in mind. We had first found the lump only a few weeks before flying to Bangkok. We had considered cancelling our trip, but neither of us really wanted to, and we let ourselves believe that it was nothing more than an inflammation of fibrous ductwork. I could only wish this would have been the first and last time that we would allow ourselves to believe that the world was ours.

Photo courtesy of Rodolfo Walsh

And now here I sit again looking back at the mistakes and decisions I have made in this life after looking through the photos from our lovely wedding. How much more does the world have in store for us I sometimes wonder? Have we overcome the worst, have we shown ourselves to be resilient, have our tests ended or is this just the beginning of what is to come? An Indian fortune teller once told Kate that we would live a long and happy life together, that I would be successful, and that yes she would pass into the next existence before I would. I hope he is wrong and that we pass together, but at the least I hope he is right and that we can be blessed with a long and prosperous life full of the love we have suffered to build and enjoy. Either way, I will step off this plane in Los Angeles and be waiting for her to step off her flight from Portland; to hold her in my arms and kiss her full lips and remind her how much I adore her.