Pup & Ben, Part 5

Rewinding the clock over a year now, back to the immediate aftermath of our first date...from Wednesday, September 24, 2008, onward. (I need to tell myself the date just so I'm clear on what I'm writing about. It's been a pretty eventful 12+ months since then, and things don't show any sign of slowing down!)

So...let's see if I can recall. (Now don't get too upset, darling little bengal...I have a better memory for the peaks than for the valleys in between, so if I'm forgetting some details that meant much more to you, well...that's just the way it goes. You'll have to correct me some more...)

I have no idea what I did that Wednesday. I'm not sure if I was surveying, or went to campus, or even if I worked that night at Starbucks again. By that time I was satisfied with my Starbucks career: I'd made a little money, gotten plenty of free coffee, and most importantly, nabbed a good-looking woman who'd wandered through. Mission accomplished! Two weeks later I was gone.

But Kate was very much present.

Thursday we planned to meet for lunch. I felt the connection on our first date, and was as certain of it two days later as on the first night. But things were young, of course, so I was still really eager to impress her, and show her only the best things I could find. So my choice for lunch was this little cafe not too far away from Duggin's house, a place called Cafe Luna. Since I was first introduced to it several years ago, I thought of it as the perfect lunch cafe, and even though it was raining lightly and we wouldn't be able to eat outdoors, the food was sure to be just as good as usual.

Only...duty called Kate. Duggin was the reason she was in Rhode Island, after all. And this afternoon, Kate was a little worried about spending a long time away from her home. We met at the library (I think...I know I was at the library before we met...hmm. If our accounts won't have diverged already, they'll start now.) What I do remember is that I met Kate, and she explained why she didn't feel comfortable leaving East Greenwich, and I felt perhaps a touch of anger, but mostly disappointment and resignation. After all, I wanted to treat her to a special place...what to do in EG?

We meandered down to Main Street, and among the other tiny eateries was Ed's Roost, this small storefront with the dark sign, dark paint, and dark interior. Not particularly inviting, it would seem, but I'd been there once and hadn't been disappointed. Besides, the dark interior has the feel of a venerable old cabin, with bare wood stained dark with age. The ceiling is surprisingly high, and for the brown-to-black surroundings, the room feels surprisingly large.

So it was with a lightened heart that I sat down with her, and we kept on chatting as we got ready to order. Don't ask me to recall what we were talking about. Between bits of life story, present-day facts of life, and our peerless banter, we kept on jawing as we got our food. Every now & then I order a Reuben, and I can only recall having one bad one in my life. But usually I default to a burger. I think she got a BLT--Kate likes BLTs--but we were late, just at the end of their day, so we kind of slid in for a last-minute bit of work on the part of the chef before he closed the kitchen. So the place was quiet as we ate and kept on talking, and then on out back into the rain.

I didn't want to let her go, though, so I was casting about for excuses to spend more time with her. I asked where she was headed next, and she answered the supermarket, and invited me along. So we went, and she saw another expression of my coffee addiction: Dave's Market coffee. See, there's this small chain of supermarkets in the East Greenwich-North Kingstown area of Rhode Island, Dave's: reasonably upscale, with the usual supermarket stuff, a smattering of organics and gourmet things to go with (Katie's favorite) the hot food bar (a frequent dinner choice while I'm away, she tells me). And free coffee.

Free coffee! No better or worse than any drip you'd pay $1.99 for, and all you have to do is make a pretense of buying something. My version of the honor system for the free coffee is, of course, buy something, however trivial. As long as I've lived in North Kingstown, a little over four years now, I'd make a point of stopping every day there, just to get something to go with the free coffee. So what if I might wind up with three tubes of toothpaste at home, or two economy packs of toilet paper, or enough cat litter to last six months. The money would be put to some constructive use while I maintained my caffeine fix.

So Kate went to Dave's, and I hit the coffee, conveniently placed right in front of the entrance. (Never mind I'd just had some over lunch, too...it was free, after all!) Content and coming into my caffeine-and-sugar buzz, I strolled along behind Katie as she walked down the aisle, and my eyes slid slowly downward from her head...then I heard her voice.

"Enjoying the view?"

Um.

When a man's busted, there's really nothing for him to say. Some guys might stammer an excuse, a rare few perhaps might actually have a smooth reply, but I for one could only lamely admit guilt.

"Uh, yeah." She turned her amused eyes on mine, and probably made some remark to the effect of, "You're walking two paces behind me, and you don't think I'm perfectly aware of what you're focused on?"

Somewhat chastened (but not much), I came up alongside her and we walked on as she picked up the things she wanted and we left. I felt slightly disappointed, that even though we'd spent some good time together, it still felt cut short, and it'd just been a walk through the rain, a sandwich, and a visit to the supermarket. Big fat huge deal that.

Moderately desperate, I angled to see her Friday as well. We were planning to see each other Saturday, but I didn't want to skip another day too, especially since this afternoon had, at least compared to what I wanted, kind of tanked.

At this point, having seen her again, I was starting to feel a slightly different sort of desperation. I didn't want to let her go (sounds ridiculous since we'd just met, but be honest: the world's a little different when you're falling for someone), and I wanted her to feel the urgency I felt. So I basically begged to meet her after I got off work Friday night, and she not-so-reluctantly agreed.

Around 9 or so I got off work and she was there, so we walked across the parking lot to a little sushi place (as it turns out, a favorite cuisine of both of us), and though she'd already eaten, I prevailed on her to join me for dinner (since I was starving).

This wasn't my first exposure to hot saki--and trust me, it's much better hot--but I gave myself a royal little buzz, as she refused to drink much of anything beyond a polite toast. So I did one foolish thing, knocked the envelope into the little fish pool beside our table. Because, you might recall, I'd forgotten to give her the birthday card to go along with the rose, teddy bear and shells on our first date, her birthday. And I also had those lame little gifts I'd picked up Sunday, the cheap candleholder and whatever else it was I bought, later replaced by the bear. So I gave everything else to her Friday, like a second little birthday.

I don't think she had much sushi, but I was famished so that was fine. But after the meal, she made like she was ready to go back home, and I begged her to take at least a small walk. It was a dark, close night, mist hung in the air. She didn't need much encouragement so we strolled toward the baseball diamond nearby, and up the road that ran along the right-field side. We weren't saying much, and I decided the moment was right to tell her about my premonition on Tuesday night, when we'd both worn black.

I told her the omen, that our both choosing black meant that we'd be together as long as we lived. She didn't react with the alarm or revulsion I'd feared. Rather the opposite, she came closer and we kissed. That was when faith became knowledge, and I knew I'd found the real thing.

Life, motherhood, etc ...

Per nagging from my husband, and begging from other family members for more new posts, here I am! Believe it or not I finally have 2, count them, one, two free hands at the moment, so I'm seizing the rare opportunity to share a piece of my mind as well!

The last 5 weeks have been ... different. That's the best word that comes to mind. Bringing little Eva into the world was an intense, irreplaceable, miraculous process which I must say, Michael summarized beautifully! The only bit I might add, from my prospective, was the actual act of giving birth is humbling and empowering all at the same time! The fact that life can be created by two people coming together, and carried for months while it grows from a few simple cells into a complex human all on its own I find incredibly humbling. And when its you who physically brings that life from the inside out, an overwhelming sense of accomplishment permanently instills itself in you! Its a damn good thing that empowering effect takes place though, otherwise I think all mothers would be lost in the first few weeks of learning to deal with their infant!

Ahh, but truly, motherhood is a wonderful experience and I wouldn't trade a second of it (well ... besides the week Eva and I had thrush, that wasn't so peachy). Now that nursing is a non issue though, Eva has become my little buddy and I even look forward to when she wakes up at night and I get to see her pretty little eyes look up at me and cradle her soft head in my hand as she finds comfort and nourishment in me!

Eva has made it apparent too in the last few weeks, that she enjoys her sleep, much like her mother and we've fallen into a routine now after she nurses around 8am she gets some belly (sleep) time next to me in the big bed! After that we make our way down stairs and doodle around for a couple more hours and then get ourselves together for a stroll around the neighborhood. This past week we've also had a doctor's appointment to go to nearly everyday, but the most exciting outing to date, was meeting Rajon Rondo this afternoon! He even autographed her green baby blanket!!! It's pretty much no contest now, I have the coolest baby in all of Rhode Island! :-P

Most importantly though, Eva and I have made two new friends with mommy Lara and baby Eve who live across the courtyard! Eve is 3 months and cute as a button, having recently discovered her hands, and how to smile! Lara is a bit older than myself but we share a similar personality and seem to see eye to on on a lot of issues! The 4 of us went on our first walk together yesterday which turned into a 3 hour long visit! Now it's a bit more difficult to get out the door these days, but we're definitely making the effort to be out and about ... and succeeding most days ... even if it is just to the see the doctor and to the grocery store!

Although life without Mike is far from ideal, we're managing somehow. Life is only perfect though, when morning means coffee grinds fill my nose before I open my eyes, and guitar music ping-pangs its way up the stairs and tickles my ears ... when afternoons are filled with a comforting silence while contemplating over form of literature ... and when evenings are filled with laughter and senseless banter. His presence brings a brilliance to life that cannot be matched or substituted, and despite keeping busy, I miss him dearly every moment of the day!

And yeah sure, so I've got Greg, and Caine, and Pickles ... and soon enough, Rondo, Ray, and Pierce again ... but simply put, ain't no man compares to you Pup! ;-)

Choices

Back in Alaska now, nearing the end of my second week back. I developed a routine duing the summer, and with winter closing in, it's easy to hold to: work 8-5, roll on down to Wasilla, chat with Kate via webcam, hit the gym (getting back into swimming, and it feels goooooood), drive back to the house, have dinner, read for a few hours, and go to sleep. It's a simple routine, and with winter coming on quickly here, easy to keep. Daylight's down to slightly less than eight hours, and though dawn and dusk are lengthy and there's light enough to see by for a while on either side, the sun's not in the sky for long. Today it rose sometime around 10 AM, and set rather before 6. Despite the unseasonably hot weather--41 F this morning!--the shortening days and stiff winds, carrying clouds of dust from the mountains, give the land a stark cast. Lowering gray clouds swathed the mountaintops this morning and dusted them with snow.

Katie and Eva are still in Rhode Island, of course, and Eva is growing like we hoped she would, gaining weight and length and awareness of the people and things around her. Katie gets to see her dawning intelligence and expressiveness, though most often those still amount to burps and spit-ups. I saw one facial fit I might call a smile before I left, though it was unclear what she might be smiling at, and it was gone as quickly as it came. That's one of the many amazing things about newborns: all their muscles, including their mouth and face, are in nearly constant motion. Their legs and arms pump, they arch and twist their back, the face assumes one strange mask after another as the muscles move with apparent randomness. A look of concentrated misery might melt into a lax, open-mouthed doze. Eva might furrow her brows, and assume a look something like her mother's intense anxiety, but then her face relaxes and her tongue slips out. When the kid is yours, this kaleidoscope of motion is an endless fascination.

Newborns are really quite serious creatures. They don't joke around. They're tiny, get cold easily, they have small reserves of food, water and oxygen, and their needs are immediate. Their eyes are almost always closed for the first few weeks. An infant's means of communicating are crying and thrashing. It takes a little time to build up to it--she'll start out with a splutter and a murmur, followed by a brief cry or two, before working up to full volume. The whole process takes a minute or two, and unless she were warming some milk from the fridge, Katie would never let Eva get that far.

Katie's care of Eva has been both loving and hard work. The feeding alone is a tough learning process. Like pregnancy and birth itself, breastfeeding, for being natural, can be difficult, painful, and full of unexpected problems. A mammary gland duct might become plugged. The teat might begin to leak at surprising times (the things have Pavlovian ways). The mother and baby might pass an infection back and forth to each other, which makes the breastfeeding even more painful. The baby's latching on is often awkward and startling. And this is just what I've seen, or been told about!

But I've left that world behind for the time being, and I've come to the frozen coast (or near it, anyway). And a frightening reality has become obvious: with the reduced (i.e. no survey season overtime) hours, and my two-months-on, one-month-off pattern, Katie and I are making a little less than half of what we need to survive. We're out of backup resources and now, failing some kind of silver bullet, will need to make some very harrowing choices. Such as, do we default on a credit card and the car loan? We'll do without cable TV, but the phone is important for work, and the internet is our major means of communication...and despite all this, we're still running behind on the mortgage. Extended stretches of unemployment over the last two years have brought me, and now us, to this point.

She and I discussed it this afternoon, as I sat at the cafe. I didn't care who else might have been listening in--I'm not ashamed of our life. I'm proud of it. I don't pretend not to have difficulties when I really do. Kate and I thrashed through some of the immediate problems we face and, without making any immediate choices, prepared ourselves for a seige of sorts as we try to navigate financial trouble and at least keep our home. We discussed the possibility of bankruptcy, but the laws have been so rewritten to favor the creditors in recent years that I don't think it will help much--a few isolated defaults would be better than a permanent mark. And yes, I write this partly as a way of steeling myself for the coming decisions, and their aftermath.

It's a comfort just to be able to see her face even as we discuss things like that, which have no immediate solution. And of course there are good things in each of our days, and some banter. And toward the end of our talk, we'll exchange "I love you" once or twice, without other things to say. And though it's a comfort to say and hear it, the ice-cold, unsentimental part of me is impassive as those words whistle by like a chill breeze. They're a thin reminder of, a plea for, the rest of the relationship.

A friend of mine once told me a very interesting idea: love consists only of your actions toward another person. There is nothing else. I do think there's a lot of truth in that, but the desire, the will, the genuine pleasure in performing those actions, is no less a part. The emotion without action would be like the holy spirit without a vessel, or scripture without a reader. On the other hand, there's the thought of Paul: actions without love are themselves empty. A vessel with no liquid, an idle mind learning nothing. Both are indispensible. The vessel and the spirit need each other.

But so far apart, we have almost no means of doing anything. Katie's cleverness at throwing me a small birthday party, while she was in Rhode Island and I in Alaska, nearly made me cry. I went to my favorite cafe--Pandemonium, of course--and idly called her as I arrived. She then telephoned the cafe before I ordered my coffee, told them it was my birthday, and presto, I had a song and free dessert to go along with the gifts she'd mailed.

Something extraordinary like that doesn't happen every day, and usually, she and I have nothing but words to share. I won't say that damages, or drains our relationship. It's testing our endurance, right now, but how relationships grow and change, some parts withering and other parts taking fresh flower, is far deeper and more complex. I'm not worried about us, at all, with respect to being apart, or facing severe financial hardship. We'll live, and we'll have fun. But the words "I love you", repeated somberly or anxiously, are more like the cut than the bandage.

One of my favorite bands is Dire Straits, and one of my favorite lyrics comes from their song "Why Worry":

But baby
Just when this world seems mean and cold
Our love comes shining red and gold
And all the rest is by the way.

The plinkety-plink of the guitar--any Mark Knopfler fans out there know what I mean--is itself kind of plaintive. But like the intro to Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah, through the minor chords and dangling notes, strong, vibrant emotion animates the whole. More delicately in the Dire Straits tune, but very much like.

I think of when I saw Katie, desperate with pain and frustration, sobbing and sometimes snarling as she tried to feed Eva. Or I think of the nursery, with its colorful marine theme, mostly her work, and all the thought and hope she put into completing it. And after we finished, she spent every evening for nearly a week sitting in the rocking chair, participating in the atmosphere. As I think of how she'll put similar thought and and hope into the Christmas decorations before long. It's these unselfconscious moments, some loud, some quiet--some in pain, some peaceful--that make me feel the amazement and gratitude for her presence.

Next to recollections like that, hearing a saddened "I love you" almost like a toll paid for the conversation. Those three words aren't needed, and repeated too often, can obscure what we mean. Better even to joke, such as to imitate our favorite cartoon Metalocalypse (about a world-famous numbnut death metal band, Dethklok). Something along the lines of, "Ugh, I hope you fall off the balcony and break your neck, whatever." We've done that on a number of occasions, and when it came to a contest of each of us trying to gross the other out more, I can say that my wife has quite an, um, sanguine imagination. Yup, safe to say that.

Of course, there's a new show, and new games to play...our new favorite show, Kung Fu. Yes, a nearly 40-year-old show, that we've just discovered (thanks to Quentin Tarantino, Kill Bill and David Carradine). And though Kate might chafe at my posting this, I do believe that Dr. Gregory House has been replaced in her heart by one Kwang Chai Caine...though I'm not so sure about Pickles the drummer. So now we've got an array of grasshopper jokes.

And the jokes can be better at recalling the unselfconscious ease of a loving relationship, and the nourishing warmth it provides.

For, as the blind monk would say, the same ray of sunlight both strikes the eye of the fish, and is also scattered off the water in a thousand gleams...