Subject: it's safe to write now
R,
I've worked through what I needed to do about all that other stuff. I'm ok now.
R, Marianna died last year. It was a terrible surprise. I didn't get to say good bye.
It has taken me this long to realize you're not sixteen.
If nothing else happens, I want to make peace with you, if that's possible.
You are a singular point in my being. I attribute much of my sanity, grace and belligerence over the intervening years to your influence. And I'm grateful.
I'm in community radio now. It's not easy; I'm making the same, boneheaded mistakes I made at 1st U, only less explosively! shoot!
I'm going into independent production now. You may hear a segment I produce on NPR in the not-too-distant future.
I have recovered the shock of my daughter's death enough to begin to remember, again, who I really am. And I'm "falling in love" with myself again.
As a result, some of the finest, gentlest, strongest people around me are inviting me into their support and protection.
One reminds me a bit of you. It's so rare to find a true GENTLEman, I recognized him right away. He's my mentor, and is loaning me his personal equipment, so I can start producing radio from home! Can you believe it? He has thirty years' experience. I'm amazed at his generosity and support!
Only today, I discovered that the a woman at my station is probably one of the smartest, most insightful, powerful people I've met in a long time!
We had a three hour lunch today and I'm still blinking at my fortune to be in her orbit!
I want you to know.
I'd like you to remember: when I was your tag-along, your pest and your friend.
I miss the movies, the cold coffee, the kitchen arguments. I miss the way you'd snort when I amused you.
I think about you regularly. I brag about you occasionally. I remember you as a singularly-fitting blessing in my life.
I'm always grateful we met.
I want you to know, R.
Always,
Rogi
No comments:
Post a Comment