I am currently somewhere in Colorado, on my way back
home to Pennsylvania. My time in the high Mojave
desert has come to an end, and with it, this column,
From the Left Coast, has reached its end
too.
It is necessary that you understand one thing. The
past ten months and this column, and my going to
California in the first place, were made possible by
one person only.
She is the “we” in every column. She is the most
beautiful human being I have ever known and will ever
know. She is LOVE defined. She is my bride-to-be.
Together, we have journeyed over a landscape as
endless in possiblity as the love we share.
Together, we have seen the desolation of the vast sea
of desert, the majesty of a winter sunset over the
foothills of the southeastern Sierra. We have felt
the glory of rain after months of dryness, the soft
petals of lupine on one’s face.
Together, we have walked hand-in-hand through forests
filled with trees of magnificent strength and size.
We have held each other by a fire at the base of the
highest mountain in the contiguous United States. We
have explored canyons, promising a life together at
the grandest one of all.
Together, we have walked city streets and sipped hot
drinks on cold, Pacific coast evenings. We have seen
the arts, both performing and visual. We have held
each other while dancing, our eyes telling a story
known only to us.
Together, we have learned that the endless landscape
provides more than just a place to explore. It can
serve as a metaphor of love as well.
In all its wonder and beauty, harshness and
relentlessness, where the high Mojave Desert and
eastern Sierra Nevada mountains meet is the
metaphorical equivalent of love.
To say that love should be perfect is to not know
love, unless you assume that love is imperfectly
perfect. Imperfectly perfect love is indeed true
love.
Acknowledging its imperfectness allows for it to then
be perfect.
In other words, love can be the struggle of a plant’s
life in the desert, and it can be a field of bright
orange poppies in spring. It may require a search for
a water source, or it may be the river outside your
tent.
Whatever it may be, recognize that it is still love.
Understand that it thrives you. Give thanks for it.
And so that’ll do it for From the Left Coast. I do not know if there is another series
of column to come. Time will tell.
Whatever happens, I am grateful for having gone to
California. Again, all of it came about thanks to my bride-to-be.
To her, I am forever thankful. Better yet,
FOR her, I am eternally thankful. She is the greatest
gift I have ever received. She is what I always
thought I could be. She thrives me.
May you find love…
(written 10 June 2001)
beautiful writing. thank you.