Susan Senator

Sorry to be confusing. Nat’s move-out day is actually July 28. Some of my readers thought that because the poem I wrote a few days ago referred to him leaving, that I meant immediately. No, thank goodness, it is not that soon. And yet, it is soon enough. It is a bit of a torment to drag it out, as well. He needs the time to prepare, but I don’t. I will need the time afterwards, to grieve.

I talked to him today about moving to his new home, “the way boys do when they are 18.” He took it in. I don’t know how he felt about it. I think he wants me to make him a special calendar, which I’ll do tomorrow. Something visually different to reflect the new life.

We are all home, post-Cape, hanging around, waiting for things to start: camp, move-out, new book project. I am trying to keep busy, and with four men to take care of, that is not too difficult. Taking care of me comes in drips and drabs, like tonight, when Shadia, one of my first teachers — who is also a costume designer — stopped by. A few weeks ago I had purged my old costumes and had offered these to her, so that she could give them new life. She offered a trade: she would tailor my best costume (the ruby red Eman Zaki) so that it would fit me perfectly, in exchange for a few bedlahs and scraps.

And so she did:

Shadia is a lovely person, a brilliant costume-maker, and a new friend. This costume, remade by rearranging the components of wristlets, anklets, veil, and shoulder straps, is now simply beautiful. It has a brand new life.

It will be my new inspiration, for my latest favorite song, Raul Ferrardo’s Yearning. I will be giving a workshop for friends of my mom, and I will perform for them in the Eman to Yearning. Here is a choreography I found, below:

Healed by love and sleep
Awakened to your voice that told you things.
I marvel at how you comfort yourself
I wonder if you sat down with me for more
I know you don’t want to leave this place of softest blues and spiky greens,
Crows that argue and rabbits that chew, stare, and think, maybe.

This goodbye feels like more to me
A familiar maw of sadness that yawned open as the day closed.
We’re going.
You’re going.
I drink scalding coffee, swallow down a fresh blooming pain
and listen to you whispering sudden cool laughter bubbles in your mouth
And a symphony of birds outside
On our last day.

…All men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.
-Thomas Jefferson, July 4, 1776

Here’s to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!

10,000 years can give you such a crick in the neck!
–The Genie in Aladdin

But 24 years, well, our little party’s just beginning…