New York City Trip

I’m currently decompressing from my week long trip to New York. I hardly wrote anything while I was there, but as soon as I sat down and started to reflect on my visit, a rush of memories from the past week came flooding in.

Do You Remember?

Today would have been mine and Shani’s 9th wedding anniversary, and I will be spending it in the same city we spent our first, New York. I’ll be attending the Yankees game tonight with Sara, my great friend and roommate from my time in Florida last fall and the one who coached me through my first anniversary without Shani last year. She’s the perfect company for me today.

Since this is my second anniversary without Shani, I thought I’d share the story of last September 21st, the first without her in my physical presence, although I think it’s obvious that her spirit was right there with me.

This will be my last post for the next week or so while I’m in New York. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to share when I get back, but for now I’m just going to soak up the energy. Hope you enjoy the story.

Mike

My Element

“…Mike is totally in his element here (NYC).”

-Shani Fecht (excerpt from journal 7/25/03)

I’m headed to New York tomorrow morning for a week of couch crashing with old friends, connections with new ones and a bit of exploration and self discovery.  I’ve always been drawn to that city in some strange, cosmic way. I was the only Yankees fan I knew growing up in Sterling, IL, except for my uncle who turned me onto them as a 6-year-old. A couple of years ago, I asked him why he was a Yankees fan, having been raised in the same small town.

Apathy

I’ve been angry, apathetic and raw. I’ve got a chip on my shoulder the size of Texas, and the best I can give anyone involves little more than a shrug of my shoulders and a look of, “Well, what do you expect?” People see what I write, see me looking and acting differently I guess, and say, “You seem to be doing so much better.” What else are they supposed to say, right? If you call getting more comfortable in dealing with nightmares and putting a good face out there getting better, then yeah, I am. People see Facebook stuff and think they know you or know exactly where you are. There’s a reason it’s called “Face”book and not “Soul”book. This is no linear growth process, and right now, I am in a funk to end all funks. People read a post that’s positive and go, “Must be doing great today!” I struggle every day to try and stay positive. And sometimes that vibe I am putting out there is nothing more than an effort to fake it until I make it. I’m just trying not to do something that will lead to a deeper and darker hole.

One Year Later - A 9/11 Story

This was originally printed in The Pulse-Chattanooga's Alternative Weekly Newspaper, on September 11, 2006.

When I watched the attacks on the World Trade Center on TV in Atlanta, I cried and worried for my friends and coworkers who were living and working in the city. I also had no idea that one year later, September 11, 2002, I would be watching as firefighters and police officers lined the streets surrounding my new apartment on Greenwich Street in Lower Manhattan, less than 200 yards from Ground Zero, preparing for the ceremony to begin just blocks away.

Out of the Mouths of Babes…

“You know why I’m sad, Maw Maw?” Sophie, my five year old niece, had been noticeably disturbed lately. “I’m sad because I never got to tell Aunt Shani goodbye.”

“Oh Sophie, I’m so sorry,” my Mom said.

“Uncle Mikey didn’t get to say goodbye, either, did he?” She looked up through the sad eyes of a wounded little angel.

“No Sophie. Your Aunt Shani had an accident. When someone has an accident like that, you don’t get to say goodbye.”

I’m so sorry, too, Sophie. I’m so, so sorry.

The Dream

My feet are tucked under my body in a crouched position, the pads of which lightly touch the bottom surface of the pool, easily supporting the weight of the two buoyant bodies floating above. Her smooth legs wrap around my hips, she sits gently on my thighs. The defined arms of this well-kept and mature woman squeeze my neck, her chin firmly resting on my shoulder and mine on hers, just above the water line, a combination of sweat and water only adding to the sensation from the skin of our cheeks pressed firmly together. My arms wrap completely around her back, the string from her bikini top beneath my left hand, the thumb and forefinger of my right hand rubbing the base of her head and top of her neck as if to pull any possible remaining tension from her mind. We hold each other and float aimlessly through the shallow end of the pool, completely unaffected by any outside energy other than the blistering sun beaming through a cloudless blue summer Atlanta sky. The energy created in the convergence of souls resonates love earned through time, through experience.

Sitting With It...For Now

Post it. Don’t post it. Yes. No. Ok. Nope.

I haven’t posted much recently. It’s not that I haven’t been writing or that I am struggling to come up with a topic or anything like that. In fact, I’ve probably written more in the last week than I have in a while; I just haven’t put it out there for public consumption. I have one lengthy blog completely prepared.  It’s about an experience I had last week and the feelings that experience stirred up inside of me, but I’m just not ready to share it. I believe that doing so will be quite cathartic, but I’ve come to the conclusion I need to think it through a bit more. It’s really not all that uncommon for me to write something and then sit with it until I feel confident exposing my innermost thoughts. So often I find myself sharing exactly what it is that I am feeling in a particular moment or in response to a particular occurrence in this crazy journey I’m on.  However, this blog post that I’ve written is about a cosmic coincidence of sorts that has forced me to reexamine my feelings about people I personally held, and probably still hold, partially responsible for the circumstances that led us here.  It’s about Zeke’s father and step-mother.