Baby, You’re Just a Click Away

by on July 25, 2011 · 14 comments

in From the Soul, Life Events

Nancy and her camera

It’s been two, baby
Two years since
You went away…

Yet it feels just like yesterday. And I still miss you like it was yesterday. But I’m getting better everyday. Now, I have to say, I still find myself shedding tears (tears that will be around forever, I’m thinking) but the deep intense bone and soul searing emotional pain that wore on me for so many months has faded away. I’m learning to be at ease with my sweet and precious memories of you, giving way to the poetry in the imagery that comes to me, like a click from your camera, to play on your photography.

Like this very moment, a moment in which I’m about as horny as a 73 year old man can be (so what else is new, sez you), I’m visualizing you on the first day we played tennis, in those cut off levi jeans. Lord, have mercy, girl, you looked so fine I wanted to scream then you started serving blinding aces and you found corners and lines and suddenly two driven competitors are in a dogfight having a good time and I was in a state of ecstasy and I’ve never recovered from that day in our history.

I see you weaving your magic with those children at the school, packing them in your van like sardines, like the clown car act in a circus routine, off to the tide pools or to a woody park or to the snow, showing them a world that was good to know. Ummm, a woman with as much soul as sex appeal. If you were here I’d cop a feel. You-were-the- real-deal.

And now, the camera clicks away: I can barely make you out swimming in the distance at the Cove or the Shores or the Bay; from leftover scraps scavenged from the fridge you’re creating a gourmet delight that we swallow with a nice bottle of wine on a “Date Night,” always a delightful night; we’re walking down a busy noisy street, wondering why all eyes are on us and then we realize we’re in the Disneyland Parade with Mickey Mouse looking like he wanted to call security – was that not the weekend of a lifetime; we’re lying in bed for an extra hour in the morning because our girls, not yet a year old, are entertaining themselves in their cribs in the other room, speaking in “twin tongues” and laughing like people at a Richard Pryor Concert and we’re cracking up just digging it all, another beautiful day getting underway, one of many in the three years we took off from our careers; Carlos tells us to take the training wheels off his bike after riding to the corner and back. And then he rides to the corner again like he had ridden a bike in a prior life and then comes back to the house with his feet on the handlebars talking about: “Look, mom! Look, dad! No hands!” And I was thinking: “Should I hide the car keys.”

Click: You with a camera in front of your eye, framing visions that make one sigh, on land or on the sea, divining what can only be defined as natural beauty with a touch of artistry; the camera an extension of your very self, a source of your well being.

I could go on and on with such reveries as we had a rich life, baby, so many good times, so many laughs. But I mainly just wanted to express that I’m on a nice path to healing, so pleased with the reality that out of all my misery, there has emerged a new day, that I’m free to embrace you in any way I can, realizing that although you’re gone, delightful remembrances of you are just a click away. That soothes my heart and soul today.

{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }

avatar annagrace July 25, 2011 at 10:30 am

Exquisitely beautiful Ernie.

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avatar Ernie McCray July 25, 2011 at 12:52 pm

She was so exquisite.

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avatar Gary Gilmore July 25, 2011 at 12:40 pm

Beautiful sentiment Ernie. Very well written and honest. Made an impression.

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avatar Ernie McCray July 25, 2011 at 12:52 pm

Gracias, Gary.

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avatar Bonnie Elias July 26, 2011 at 5:37 pm

Ernie, Thank you!

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avatar Ernie McCray July 26, 2011 at 11:53 pm

And thank you.

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avatar judi curry July 26, 2011 at 8:17 pm

Dear Ernie, I envy your ability to look back at memories and feel the beautiful essences that come to mind. Some day, in the near future, I hope to be able to do that too. I must say that you have given me hope.

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avatar Patty Jones July 26, 2011 at 8:36 pm

Judy, it will come. Hugs to you dear lady. Miss you.

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avatar judi curry July 26, 2011 at 9:00 pm

Thanks, Patty. It is almost two years – but it seems like the ache is just as deep as it was then. I know, rationally, that is not the case, but loneliness is hard to define and cope with. How he would love the politics going on right now.

As an aside, I am having some health issues that, I hope, will be resolved by Monday. Haven’t felt much like writing – to immersed in my own problems and grief.

I miss you all too. Thanks for the comforting words.

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avatar Jacquenese Barnes Price September 10, 2011 at 2:27 pm

Hello Ernie,

Checking in with you. Are you ok? I pray so.

We are getting ready to go to New York and Italy the 15th of September – love to hear from you.

Much love, much prayer and much care for you!

Jacque

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avatar Ernie McCray September 10, 2011 at 11:14 pm

Doing fine. Ahhh, I haven’t been to Italy but I love New York. Have fun. Love.

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avatar Ernie McCray July 26, 2011 at 11:52 pm

Just take it one day at a time, Judi. And I’m sure as a writer you’ll find ways to soothe your pain eventually. But, hey, I know. It’s a journey of journeys isn’t it? I send you love.

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avatar judi curry July 27, 2011 at 7:33 am

Thanks, Ernie. Your words are truly comforting.

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avatar Ernie McCray July 27, 2011 at 1:50 pm

That’s what I wanted to hear.

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