16 March 2011

Selfish Me, I Wish You Were Still Here

Gina Y. Tramble aka G'Natae aka Lynx Green aka My Friend

Monday, March 7, 2011.
Cancer.
Not nice.


When I finish crying I may write a poem... or something. But right now, all I can do is cry. At the most inopportune times. And, suffer insomnia. Reliving 25 years of your mouthing "I love you." Remembering why you named me "Twinkle Toes." Reaching back to a recent yesterday sitting at the foot of your bed eating carryout from an "A"-rated restaurant. Nope, doesn't feel like I am going to finish crying any time soon.


Thank you for always protecting me even when I didn't want to be protected and especially when I needed to be protected! Thank you for peals of laughter until we could have used some Depends. Thank you for the practical jokes. Thank you for letting me paint your fingernails purple -- while you slept and didnt notice it until six hours later. Thank you for box seats, General Mills coupons, and time with Jay. Thank you for tutoring me on how to begin to drink liquor -- even though I never did finish my first and only Slow Gin Fizz. Thank you for mustering up a smile to make me feel better when you were feeling bad.



Now, about our unfinished business. Bucket List Item #52 -- Bar Fight. I am so sad you never got to feel the exhilaration of fist to flesh, warm wet expel of a nosebleed, and orgasmic exhaustion while waiting for the po-po to haul our asses off to a holding tank (so what if I had it staged to protect YOU this time with friends who are a boxer, barkeep and off-duty LAPD). Know however, I will soon be taking off my earrings and putting Vaseline on my face because we will still have this party in your honor! Ha! You know me, Ride-or-Die!, and will take a punch for my sister who couldn't be here.



+~+~+~+~+~+~+

Glad for God and Gina, sad for me and Ms. Minerva (our pet name for her mother).

Nope, not feeling tears drying up anytime soon.
Cancer.
Not nice.

(Giving God thanks and praise for my Beloved Lover who makes space for me to mourn.)

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