"Miss ya: A poem"

  • MikeW

    Posts: 6061

    Jan 09, 2014 9:06 PM GMT
    Ok, back story…

    I'm getting ready to move to a new apartment. The movers come tomorrow morning. Today I'm finishing the last of my packing up.

    Just now I came across a Valentine's Day card that I hadn't seen in several years. The FIRST time I found this card was as I was cleaning out my partner, David's, stuff. He'd put it in a drawer, apparently intending to give it to me on Valentine's. However, the week before, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor and died on Valentine's day, 1996. It's a store-bought greeting card with a very child like script (very much 'David'):


    MISS YA
    A POEM


    Miss ya in the morning.
    Miss ya at night.
    You seem as far away
    as a satellite.
    Miss ya so much,
    it makes me hurt.
    You should see these tears
    my eyeballs squirt.
    Miss ya like crazy.
    Miss ya completelly.
    Miss ya from my headily
    down to my feetly.
    Miss ya real bad,
    and it's a big fat bore…
    (open card)
    …Just missin'
    and missin'
    till my misser gets sore.

    (signed)
    Love, David


    sign icon_cry.gif
  • Posted by a hidden member.
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    Jan 09, 2014 9:08 PM GMT


    *chokes up*


    Damn.

    *really chokes up*


    C'mere.

    HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG
  • Posted by a hidden member.
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    Jan 09, 2014 9:34 PM GMT
    Hugs Mike.

    Imports cat, now this; may have to call my sponsor, as I have no chocolate or bacon in the house.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
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    Jan 09, 2014 9:48 PM GMT
    That was a wonderful poem. Not the same old stuff.
  • MikeW

    Posts: 6061

    Jan 09, 2014 10:16 PM GMT
    It's ok. Thanks for the hugs guys. It has been a long, long time but every once in a while something like this brings it back. Taking one's life apart, sorting through old stuff, deciding what to keep and what not to keep, putting some stuff in boxes and others in the garbage…

    It reminds me of how difficult it was to pack David's stuff up. He had a LOT of stuff. Kind of a packrat and an artist, too. I gave tons of it away to friends and family but there was still way more than I could keep. So one of the most difficult things is throwing stuff that meant something to him in a trash bin. It's so, I don't know, both final and unceremonious. I like the Balinese way: Put all the junk on a pyre along with the body and set it ablaze.

    Fare well, old friend! icon_confused.gif