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I guess I just stopped writing for an audience. I don’t post here. I don’t post to Facebook. Maybe because we are more isolated, generally the happiest we’ve ever -EVER- been, and self-contained now more than ever before. My compulsion to share with the world seems greatly diminished.

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But Tamara has written lots of loving words of late on here, not just a chronicle of our lives… She is writing about our internal landscape. To let that go unmatched seems unlike the two bookends that we are. In addition, we have always treated this as a document of us, so to that end I thought I would post this. For while I’ve stopped writing for an audience, I haven’t stopped writing. In fact I’ve been slowly building up steam of late.

I love you dear, and I love our life together floating on a little block of ice. -Bradley

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POP!
I didn’t expect it
But I turned 40.

And after spending my previous 39 years
Running across the meadow
With this optimistic chartreuse balloon in tow
My feet lift up off the ground.

I don’t think that the expected outcome
Is for me to let go,
Or to bound and skitter my legs only to touch down once again
On sod, dandelions and the lumpy glacial till.

So that leaves me ghosting across the field
like some proto-Wright brother,
Attempting to fly.
I think I am supposed to hang on and just go with it.

I am surprised by this moment in time
That snuck up and startled me while I was busy
Being cool with-
Being underwhelmed with-
Turning 40.

Looking behind me I gather my wits for, maybe, the first time.
I realize that the kids are running up FAST
Behind me with the balloons we handed them
And they are trying to inflate them
And they look excited
(And a little worried).

I thank the maker that I have some more time to
Shout out instructions and see that they get on their way
And I am buoyed by the fact that you are flanking me to my right.
My hand tingles as I reach out, and the air feels crisper,
Knowing that I am gonna do this along with you!

And the rest or our lives
Looks overly simple
And reads in a bullet-point format
That goes roughly:

• One hand on the balloon,
• And one hand holding firmly onto yours,

• Until we hear one…
or the other…
or both…

POP!


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