Friday, June 22, 2007

“No good fish goes anywhere without a porpoise” -- Lewis Carroll

Dear fish,

it’s amazing how a year can go by just like that. it’s just like Relativity to force each day to crawl by in agonizing slowness, but for a year to splash by like a raindrop. i blame Einstein - it was his idea after all.

for those of you who have followed your fish to this site for the first time, know that today we are looking to the stars hoping for any sign of our missing fish:

for those of you looking for some connection, some words of comfort, some well, some kind of fish anyway, i have only a poor shadow of a dream to share, but hopefully it will suffice.

through many trials and tribulations, i descended through the house and out the backdoor. at the entrance to Styx Ave, a woman stopped me because i could not take a bottle of living water onto the street. i quickly drained the water, backing up only slightly because i knew the guardian was trying to turn me away. once through, i strolled down the sidewalk and there i saw her, huddled with some lost souls on the other side of the road.

she was wrapped head to toe in a fusion of fashions that nonetheless looked fabulous on her (but you knew it would). she was wearing two pairs of dark sunglasses so that i could not see her eyes. she stood up when she saw me and the movement cause her glasses to fall off - but she scurried to get them back on and grinned. we bantered a bit about this fully knowing that had i seen her eyes, the dream would have ended, such was the rule of the dream.

at this point we began walking, me on this side of the street and her on the other. we talked of many things that, like dreamthings often do, faded instantly upon waking, but were comforting in their time.

there was one point that was important - one thing I have to share. while we were bantering, i thought of saying a thing but before i could, she spoke it to me instead. and as we walked in conversation, she passed through buildings so that i could only see her through windows and could not speak to her, yet still she answered my unasked questions.

you must understand what this means: that she is able to glimpse our minds from time to time and knows when we are thinking of her - and perhaps in those times, since distance as we know it in our living bodies no longer applies to jennifer, take comfort in the belief that such a connection brings you "closer" to her than when she was alive.

for a wonderful tribute to jenn please visit stainless steel droppings - (thank you carl v. for saying many of the things that i cannot)

i love you all. i miss her dearly.