Linda H. Jerman (Huntley) d. July 2011

How fortunate that you have been called away so soon into the void! Your duties done in a manner fitting. Your race run fast enough.
This body having failed you, perhaps the next will be more generous. Better.
The Japanese of ancient Zen held to the notion that 50 years was a life span. It was all that could be expected, and to go beyond it in any way was reward. This is no consolation, only a reminder of your success in achieving years almost to 60.
I write to you on a cloud-coated Friday morning in the moody summer of 2011, Chicago, IL. Your only nephew, my only brother, has left for the train station to go home after visiting me for almost 2 weeks. It was not a drawn out goodbye: we leave each other with the notion that soon we will meet again to celebrate your life on the occasion of your passing.
Last night, I pulled photos of you from an unorganized collection. I imagine my mother, your brother's ex-wife, doing the same on the other side of Pennsylvania. We think of you. We are away from you, but never very far.
You surprised us all with every bit of a strangely satisisfying kind of love. We may never find it again. But we are the lucky ones.

Old Dreams Come True Without Warning (Summer 2k8)

She has avoided capture for the past few days. I have been less-than-diligent in my morning pursuit at her favorite coffeeshop. All the baristas in black aprons + visors know her. They smile when I mention her name. Helen.
My Helen of Troy I wish to capture and take on my boat to navigate history. Her last name is still unknown.
4-pronged walker and plastic bag filled with god-knows-what. Dressed like its 30 below.
She hands me a girl scout moment as I go to lock up my bike:
"Will you walk me across the street?"
This as my dehydrated roommate was eight seconds from passing out back on Lincoln St.
I ask if I can carry anything and she protests saying only that she wants someone with her- trusting the traffic in this town to slow and stop as much as I do, which is to say not at all.
Escorting her finally to caribou coffee's door, she confides for the second time amongst all the teasers for old stories pouring out of her: "I took the spurs off the bullets during the war."
I can only guess it was the 2nd World war, which makes me think about this country having been in war more than out. During the whole of its 230+ year existence. The 3rd one well underway.
Which only allows for a big history hard-on raging in my brain that wonders why in the hell I went to the gym rather than sat down with granny Helen and demanded stories.
But hunt her down again I fail to do, it being a thing that would get me up at crack-of-five to be at the damn java joint in time to catch her wizened bespectacled irresistibly magnificent talkative smile.

sexy memory from a long time ago --

The only problem with the movie was that it had a hot girl and a lot of sexual tension. It was an old flick I'd rented on a whim from the free library and had Vincent Price in it. I suppose it was a decent watch aside from the result which was unrelenting horniness for the both of us. I can't remember if we were drinking tequila or St. Pauli's Girl beer, which is something you'd think would matter. Like mixing that piece of information would have a bearing on the evening. We were drinking. That's the point, I guess. We are a dubious pair. We used to date, and now we live together out of a means to stay alive. Neither of us could afford rent anywhere else. It was a Tuesday and breezy and lazy and what else did any of us have but time? So we watched this movie. We were waiting for the girl to get nailed. We didn't so much as see a breast. He told me that there was porn on the computer upstairs, porn his old roommate had downloaded. Snippets of video with some illicit audio to accompany. We looked at everything & ached for someone to jump on. It simply could not be each other. Had this been two years ago, it might have worked. But there's something in time that sobers you up from love. You take a deep breath- compose yourself. I'll never forget the look we gave each other- strangers with the same mind. And we went downstairs and retreated to our separate rooms to masturbate.