Joe Montana managed to do the impossible over the days surrounding my dad’s memorial gathering. He was somehow one of the very few presences that was able to calm and comfort me without demanding anything additional from me. I was still surprised and baffled at both his kindness and my willingness to accept it and lean on him, but the whole situation felt so natural that there was nothing I could do (or wanted to do) but go with it.
Joe came to my father’s memorial, with River and her husband. Being able to have Joe there and to have his arms around me was almost essential to my sanity. He was just able to let me be. He wasn’t the only one there that I had to lean on: my cousins came from California; My Husband flew in from LA (we had been estranged for months, due to the horrible complication with PC, but MH spent a lot of time with my parents during their various visits to CA and his coming to MT re-formed our friendship), my godmother made it up from the Florida Keys. It was just that Joe Montana was the easiest to be with; he allowed me to breathe.
After an interminable day of family, friends, and way too many tears, Joe and I eventually ended up alone. He drove me back to my parents’ house and we ended up in the back yard. There, beneath a version of the Milky Way that you can’t even imagine outside of Montana, we were teenagers again. We tangled together in the cool grass, fitting length to length and kissing – just… kissing.
It was perfect.
Lyrics of the Day
"You told me victory is sweet, even deep in the cheap seats. And you don't judge me, that's not your style. But I won't see you for a little while." Conor Oberst Cape Canaveral
6 months ago