Pieces of me

So.. in my international version of 'who's line is it anyway' I am sitting on a conference call with a leader named Ganga. She's got the same speech pattern as my dear angel Veera.

Oddly enough, I had just tried to email him yesterday.. and the email bounced.
Makes me sad to have lost him. Even momentarily. In hearing Ganga lead this call I find myself missing him all the more than I do in my normal day to day nuttiness.
A biochemical engineer who loved soccer and was an amazing man.. And that Alabama Roll Tide team.. who saved me and the ladies in Birmingham more than once. Vee that brought me back to life and showed me the light of living in a world that was pretty dark and grim for me. He took me to my first biker bar. He made me laugh. He brought me tea. We watched movies and drank rum and laughed.. and he made it ok to be 29 again. Surrounded by work family -- who cared but were so much older.. in such different places.. Vee was my refreshing breath of fresh air that allowed me to breathe deep and not gasp from sudden pain.
I do so hope he's well. I do so hope he returns to me one day. We are bound, quite firmly, for life.
After all, I have his LSU tee shirt. Alabama doesn't have an attitude, they're just that good.

A week has brought us quite far.. highs and lows.. it's not often that I don't have some sort of revelation of Nikkiness.. so why should this be any different, right?

A week ago (last Monday) while on the phone with the Duck I mentioned a man by a specific name. His quick mind asked a question that I could tell he couldn't hold back. Some random detail or dropped comment came to mind and he verbally vomited his question. "Godiva or Lafayette".

I carry within myself pieces of each of you.. parts of me that surface from time to time when reminded in my normal ordinary life. A speech pattern. The fact that a random conversational fact was filed away and asked about later.

My Duck. He *does* listen. He *does* pay attention.
And on that very not good day when I'd rather be hiding under the bed (not even the covers the actual bed) he picked up his guitar and started playing "one thing".
And in talking about hopes and dreams and idle threats and plans for the future.. both the distant one and the more near future ... in laughing through my tears.. and crying through my gasps for breath from laughter.. that part of me that carries pieces of the Duck kinda shifted.. shimmered. And I drifted off to a sweet sleep calmly and in a much better place due to him.

Then last nite I get a call on my cell.. A week later my mood is not as happy or light (and it hadnt been the week before if we're honest) and there's my K'bird's cell coming through.. in a place where I rarely have cell phone signal.
I say "hello" and am met by the sound of gasps. It could be sobs. It could be laughter. My entiring being dropped for a second.
Thank God and all that's good and kind and right that it was laughter.
We have our own lil family drama being played out in what seems to be a 6 act play.
I may have to put it to paper and make a fortune one day.. simply for the fact that no screenwriter could make this shit up..
But I digress.
Seems #6's husband now has a Myspace.
In a world that isn't messy enough.. that doesn't have a drama filled ending jus yet.. we add a crusty layer of ... well. insanity.
But the greatest part was listening to that little girl.. who's growing into a young woman by leaps and bounds.. laugh in only a way that family can understand.

And in the quiet of the nite?

It all became ok. Or a little bit more so because not "all" of the all is even close to being ok. I have some very valid reasons to not be ok with some of this.. some of that.. and some of you.

I just had to remember that sometimes the pieces of me are reflected back to me in the pieces of you that I hold most dear.