Basket case

I wonder where that phrase originated. I’ll look later. But for now I’ll just say that I was a perfect example of a basket case today. I thought it’d be fine but damn, it was not. I was not fine. Awkward, sweaty, red-eyed, disaster. Hopefully my weirdness didn’t make things any harder for anyone else.

You’d tell me to forget about all that. Presence. That’s what it was. That and a damn good reminder that getting away from the IE is one of the best things you ever did.

I wonder about so many things. Why that cemetery? Is your sister nearby? Would you want visitors? Did you see the beautiful box your friend made? Do you know how many people you touched? Did you know we all became kinder because of you? How the hell did you ride all those miles? And not just racing either. A leisurely from Redlands to San Clemente? How the fuck can you – of all the humans on this planet – be gone?

There was some type of bird of prey near your grave sight. It made its presence known while we were there. I heard it’s whistle-like song as soon as I got there. Yes, we started late and it ran long but did you think it’d go any other way? And that bird stuck around the whole time. I didn’t see a nest – or the bird – but it definitely watches over that space.

I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to that part of the state. It isn’t what it once was when the air was clearer and citrus groves dominated the landscape. So much concrete, so many of the same strips of shopping. So many Teslas. So few places to plug them in.

Sometimes I still get so angry that you’re gone. You would say “toes in the sand!” or something like that. Low tide is coming so I’ll walk down to the water again. Find a spot for my toes to burrow. Enjoy it while it’s still here.