the answer was 9 decades long
because she was
she was the great depression
and the great wars
and the walk on the moon
But most of all, she was still in love
When she talked about Grandpa
her lips would quiver
like the San Andreas fault
She'd lean against the sink edge
and stare down the drain
and the earthquake on her face
would crack wide open
When I was 10, she took me out to the garage
and we pulled out all the boxes labeled "Lover"
and brought them underneath the dead orange tree
The same orange tree that had kept me small forever
and weighed our family down
with oranges every summer
and drown the house
in the perfume of orange blossoms
it was a magic tree
...mostly because Grandpa planted it on a Sunday
generations ago
Grandma sat with me under the tree
and told me the sotry of her and Grandpa
in an achey breaky voice
She said:
I was 16. And he was 18.
We were both in love
We would meet by the river and go swimming
and then he would read to me
He taught me to read
I taught him to dance, awkwardly
We made love, and it hurt
Why does anyone make love?
But the war in Europe called him
As it called all young men
And the trenches and mud became
a maze that he was lost in for years
Why does anyone leave?
My letters came back marked RTS
or "Invalid" and his would come in bunches
months late
She handed me a letter she had written to Grandpa
It read:
On the night you left I came over
and tried to keep my tears behind my eyelids
But
I felt like the moon
and you were the oceans of the earth
And I ached to break my orbit
and come crashing down into you
and freeze under your churning
and if you wanted
I would drown
and I'd think "Im ok with this"
But my goodbye was as pointless
as a singing underwater
And the ships were leaving early the next morning
for the rest of the world
Departing London
Atlanta, San Francisco, Rio De Janiero
But never any sign that said Arriving: "Home"
At the harbor
I fell asleep....
...like a pile of love letters under a bed
and when I woke up I was listening
to the mad hurricanes in my chest
break their hearts against my ribs over and over
every few seconds
as if I were Long Island Sound
the megaphone "Departing" Voice announced
your ship was boarding
And you plugged my ears for me....
and I leaned on the sinks of my heart
and tied my earthquake lips together
to keep from looking weak in front of you
And I became Long Island Silent
I ached to let the hurricanes out of my chest
and let them roll inland
so they could wash us both away
over the warm golden streelight fuzz of New York
to the tall grass of Oklahoma
to bring the swells of Long Island Sound
to the silent midwest
but instead they just broke against my bones
and I spit my worries over the cliffs
Why am I always where you arent?
When I put it down
She continued
The war ended. And he never came home.
I got engaged like all good Protestant girls should
....Like all scared women do.
And HE came back.
But just to meet my fiance.
He rode into the driveway and smiled like the old days
just to tear me up inside.
We talked
And talked
And when my fiance came home, your granpa shook his hand
looked at me
and said "Good..."
My heart felt as vulnerable as a room of ten thousand light bulbs
shining brightly, but about to be crushed to sand...
If he would have asked I would have jumped on his motorcylce with him
and dissapeared. Oh how I ached for him to ask.
But he never did....
My fiance left me a year later, a month before we married
For a wealthy woman he met in the city.
They were hard times.
But I wasnt in love with him.
When I was 29, the depression drove Him home again
and I walked to the river to see him.
Because I knew he'd be there.
and I told him I was in love with him.
Because I'd been waiting for a second chance
we danced awkwardly
and made love
We missed the depression
we spent it taking walks every sunday
and reading and writing
we swam in the cold river
and danced at night in a small dusty room
we planted an orange tree together
we slept on a tiny bed
in a house with no doors
we made love in the dark
and all the lightbulbs in my heart
came shining back
We lived for the rest of our days together
and we continued to walk on sundays even when
our legs were tired from years of working and raising children
we continued to read and write to each other
even when our eyes and fingers were only inches apart
we swam until the river dried up
and the dancing just got slower....
and we hung a christmas lights on the orange tree
and the smell of the blossoms was the smell of your grandfather
and none of the lightbulbs in my heart ever broke
until he died.....
I stayed awake all night with him that night
because we both knew he was leaving again.
She sighed.
And leaned on the tree as she stood up.
And then patted it once, and slowly walked inside
I kept sifting through her yellowing journals
and brittle polaroids
that I drug out of taped up boxes
letters written between
her and Grandpa
that she saved to feel close to him
there were pictures from when she was young
and in love
you could see it
in her face
because back then
black and white pictures
were the ONLY picutres
and they couldnt contain the kind of love
grandma and grandpa had
it would be like holding
a big band jazz and swing concert
in a redfrigerator
she buried the photos and letters
in the saftey of his old shirts
They were the deepest boxes in the world.
They had to be.
a lifetime of loving someone
a lifetime of being loved
becomes boxes
and tape
Every Sunday afternoon
Grandma would take walks
Long walks
To nowhere in particular
Like her and grandpa used to.
It was the only time she looked young
And Id open
the many letters they had written between each other
and rea
There were hundreds of letters
so many, that all the messenger pidgeons
in the world
would have been filling the skie's
So many letters that, grandma had been lost in them for years
since grandpa died.
About a year later
On a summer Sunday night,
I noticed the orange tree
had finally bloomed again.
And that "Grandpas perfume"
had filled the neighborhood
And somewhere inside,
a room full of lightbulbs flitted on and off for a few seconds
for a few decades.
I wonder if she stayed awake all night, the way Jesus stayed awake
the night he knew he was going home?
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