Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Disjointed

I drove past Hadleys today on the way home from Palm Springs. We used to stop there on our way to Idylwild. It wasn't really on the way for us and actually required driving five miles beyond the actual turn off for Idylwild, but dried papya and salted cashews make for excellent snacking on our mountain cabin's deck. And the kitschyness made it irrestible.

I have travelled quite a bit since Dalton died. No place all that interesting. Just elsewhere. The busyness of travel and distraction of my travel buddies seems to dull the ache. Almost so that I can't recognize it. But like a migraine that returns once the medication wears off, the ache returns with a vengeance once I return to my home. And even then, it isn't until the quiet of the evening that I realize the pain is actually acute.

The moments build up throughout the day. Little things. I let them slide. On their own they are but fond memories or subtle regrets. Today for example, I was pouring my coffee while everyone else slept and I recalled Dalton and I sitting at our kitchen table enjoying coffee as the sun came up. Refilling my gas tank I realized that Dalton would never let me pump my own gas. Scurrying around the house preparing to check out I remembering how effieciently we directed the clean up of retreat centers following the Alpha weekend away. Walking down the hall of the new science building at Mt. Sac, I knew that Dalton would have been proud of me going to class regardless of the fact that I was late. Then I picked up Iain and the "migraine" exploded. It had been hanging out in the background, but Iain's first painting put me over the edge. It was his first painting and Dalton didn't get to see it.

It's funny because I wanted to write all day but seem to be suffering from some block or distration. In rereading this, I proably shouldn't post it, but if this blog is my journal, then this is an interesting study on how disjointed I am right now.

I hope to write more regularly now that things are setling down.

We'll see.

4 Comments:

Anonymous dawn pentecost said...

Dear Tricia,

I can't count how many times I think of you and Dalton each day. I guess our minds are busy places.

Whenever I grab one of the "nice knives", I think of Dalton. He is the only person I've ever known that had truly gourmet knives. Tools. I remember that he brought them a few times when we cooked for ALPHA in the FPCH kitchen. Specifically to trim the pork for "carnitas", I think. So, any time I cook anything, I think of Dalton and you and all of our great times together in the kitchen!

Then there are other unexpected moments. One was last night. Diane and I were watching "Sunset Boulevard". In one scene, William Holden is working on a script with his young writing partner. His ideas are flying and he looks every bit the suave 50's man in his dress shirt and slacks. I thought of Dalton, but wasn't going to say anything. Then Diane commented, "You know, there's something about him that reminds me of Dalton."

I know he would be exceedingly proud of you and very excited by your new course of study and so are we. All the best.

Love,

Dawn (with Diane looking over my shoulder)

6:56 PM  
Anonymous dawn pentecost said...

Dear Tricia,

I can't count how many times I think of you and Dalton each day. I guess our minds are busy places.

Whenever I grab one of the "nice knives", I think of Dalton. He is the only person I've ever known that had truly gourmet knives. Tools. I remember that he brought them a few times when we cooked for ALPHA in the FPCH kitchen. Specifically to trim the pork for "carnitas", I think. So, any time I cook anything, I think of Dalton and you and all of our great times together in the kitchen!

Then there are other unexpected moments. One was last night. Diane and I were watching "Sunset Boulevard". In one scene, William Holden is working on a script with his young writing partner. His ideas are flying and he looks every bit the suave 50's man in his dress shirt and slacks. I thought of Dalton, but wasn't going to say anything. Then Diane commented, "You know, there's something about him that reminds me of Dalton."

I know he would be exceedingly proud of you and very excited by your new course of study and so are we. All the best.

Love,

Dawn (with Diane looking over my shoulder)

6:57 PM  
Anonymous Jeanette Newton said...

Heh little one,
Please keep thinking out loud.
Your writing is a tangible asset of rare quality and amazing significance to any who care enough to listen to your healing song.

6:46 AM  
Blogger amanda said...

I feel the same way. Everytime I think that I've made progress, something comes along to knock me squarely back where I started.

12:39 PM  

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