You remember a couple weeks ago, when I posted a brief note about why we travel? I was writing that from Debbie's new house, the one I told you about here. I was there for a week-long visit, after first traveling to my first-ever college reunion (my 40th).
There's plenty to talk about in the story of my travel there, and the tourist-like things we did during the week. But those are the boring things, the things I tell my family. And Marie. You don't care about any of that stuff.
The emotional side, though, was interesting. And maybe it got awfully close to the edge.
The way the house is laid out, Debbie has a little two-room apartment with its own kitchen and bathroom; then Mattie and her husband (and their two kids) have the rest of the house. For a number of perfectly sensible reasons (having to do with possible COVID-infection), Debbie and I isolated in her apartment when we weren't going out. She slept in her bedroom and I slept on the sofa bed in her living room. So far, so good.
Every night, after I had brushed my teeth and just before I tucked myself into the sofa bed, I exited the bathroom through her bedroom (the only access) and came over to say "Good night." Every night, we kissed gently on the lips—a closed-mouth kiss, if you want to call it that, but slow and sweet and delicate. And then we would hug and say "Good night." The very first night, after I had slogged through a lot of travel and other trouble, I told her, "You know I love you." She smiled and said "I love you too."
One night there was a full moon. We went outside and walked down the lane a ways to look at it through the trees. We stood right next to each other, and I draped my arm around her waist—finally, again, after all these years! (But I was careful not to do anything like that again during the whole visit.) This is the text message she later sent to a sangha-friend of hers, that she copied me on:
We just went outside to see the strawberry moon and were treated to a magical MidWest performance by Mother Earth!!! Oh my gosh! Fireflies all across the prairie grass meadows and up into the trees... bullfrogs singing... the wind blowing through the rustling leaves of the trees, flashes of lightning in the distance... Wildlife sounds hidden among the bushes and trees... and the strawberry moon just above the horizon! It was magnificent!
At the end of the week she dropped me off at the airport. After I'd pulled my luggage out of her car, we kissed again, just like we had done every night except this time we kissed twice. She said something about needing to be careful, and I replied, "I'm being good." She said, "Maybe, but I think we are right up against the line," and I answered, "And now I'm getting on an airplane."
As we drove to the airport she had invited me obliquely to come visit again in late August, and maybe join her for a road trip across the country. (So I don't think I'm the only one who is pushing the boundaries here! See also our plans for hiking the West Highland Way.) A few days later she emailed me some more details. I emailed back some thoughts about it, but then added that I had been thinking about her parting words. I didn't have any conclusions yet, but they had been on my mind. Her reply was:
I appreciate your reflections on my remarks as we said goodbye at the airport. Those sweet, tender kisses were lovely. I just imagined that if Marie were to see us kissing like that or were aware of how close we become when we spend time together, that she would feel sad and uncomfortable and it would be hurtful to her. I don't want that. It would be good to talk about it and I appreciate that you are open to do that.
Wherever we are, we are balancing on a very fine line.
No comments:
Post a Comment