you've heard what they say about loving and losing
but it tastes like whiskey and pills coming back up
i've never felt like less of a man
nothing in my stomach but a fifth
nothing in my blood but expired narcotics
so this is how jesus must feel
when i love him as much as she loves me

i hope he had a glass of lakeridge winery sunblush the night he died. i hope he had several glasses and didn't feel alone and scared when his heart failed as he slept on the couch last night. he talked about lakeridge winery like it was the promised land. i never tasted the sunblush but i hear it is very nice. one night when i was at his house after i was old enough to drink (legally), he asked me to choose a wine to drink and i picked the sunblush. he went into the kitchen to pour some for each of us and came back 10 minutes later with two glasses of white wine. i didn't care for it, but i pretended that it was awesome because i could see how much he wanted me to enjoy it. and so we sat in his office, decorated with fragments of computers and rally race trophies and discussed regrets and futures.

my grandad lived his life. sometimes he seemed self-indulgent, sometimes he seemed like one of those men who never grew out of thier fascination with cars and gadgets... i can't deny that he did spend a lot of money on himself. but it wasn't about indulging himself, it was about enjoying things. his enjoyment was all the greater when he could share in it with other people. he truly loved to give things to me. we loved to struggle with out cameras and tripods as we trapsed around central florida in search of the next adventure, not really caring if that was breakfast at nana's, lunch at palace pizza, dinner at the terrace, of flying over florida in an open cockpit bi-plane.

last time i was with him he booked us a 15 minute flight in a reconstructed bi-plane. we put on snoopy caps and aviator goggles, signed our lives away, and climbed in. the pilot was a tall man whose confidence floated back to the passengers as he taxied down the runway and into the sky. we circled lakes and million dollar homes, getting lessons in aerodynamics and perspective as we skimmed over the tiny interstate. we left the world for 15 minutes, we detached oursleves from gas prices and worry. i think that how we felt during that brief stint in the air is how he probably feels now. i don't think he has regrets. my grandad failed many, many times. he struggled with wine and women, with temper, and with pride. sometimes he was not a very good father to my mother or husband to my grandmother. i envy him. he has the only thing i want, he is with jesus. the glimmering gates have swung wide and he is innocent again. his pride and ex-wives are gone, his sin is gone, his pain is gone, but his jesus is still there.

when i was 8 you nailed my bike to the wall of the utility room. you were angry because you tried to teach me how to ride and i fell. i didn't care at all about being able to ride a two-wheeler. beneath the skinned knees and the skid marks, i cared about being able to learn from you, to do something you wanted me to do. i wasn't able to, i fell and i fell and i fell. fell onto the asphalt and you nailed my little black bicycle to the wall. and with it you crucified my heart. four years later i got a new bike and i learned to ride it the same day, my brother taught me. and even though the little black bike had long been taken down off the wall, my heart was still there. maybe when we moved away from that house it stayed behind, i don't really know. we got a new house but i still didn't have a home, because home is where the heart is. i don't know where home is, i don't know where my heart is, perhaps you still have it.
i think i've lost you. or did you lose me? no one has ever loved me as much as you have loved me. and no one has ever hurt me really, except you, because i love you. no one has broken my heart, made me feel as mean and callous and indebted as you. i don't know what i owe you, aside from my rent. in the back of my mind, i have always hoped that maybe with a little more work on the house, with better grades, with cleaner dishes, that you would be proud. i don't want your help or your pity, i don't want you to pay off my debt, i want you to love me. 21 years trying to earn your love and now i'm tired. you have brought me up the best you could and brought out the worst in me. you taught me what it feels like to be completely alone. i only ever ran from you to see of you would chase after me-- if you would welcome me home when i came home. all i want is to come home and be welcomed back as the prodigal, to have you say that you don't care about the past because now i am home. i want to have a home.
i have fallen again, fallen in love. i am trying to love a girl. she is beautiful and loved and she has a home. but i am terrified of letting her love me because i know i will have to take the chance that she will give me a new heart. last time i had a heart i didn't work out so well. so now i can ride a bike but i am not sure i can love. and everytime i fall the failure takes far more from me than the layer of skin i left on our old driveway. now i know why they call it falling in love, because it is exactly like falling. you have no control and it is completely terrifying, and the whole time you are worried about what might happen when you stop falling, when you hit. the fear of falling doesn't stop anyone, it's the fear of hitting something that you can't get past. i am not sure i can get past myself.
i fell for you the way you fell for me the day i was born. you were god to me, strong, commanding, you had a thick black moustache. i am learning about god, but i half believe that when i get to heaven he will have played football for the navy and been voted orlando's hottest bachelor in the 70's. i hope He is just like you, because, disregarding all the reasons, resentment, and fear, i still love you, and even though i don't know why or see the evidence as i would like, i know we are awfully in love.