Ciao Mi Amore

November 29th, 2008; 6:04 AM

Current mood:bummed

I hate saying goodbye. I've never been good at it. When I was a kid, I used to come visit my grandparents here. My grandfather would pick me up from the little airport we have. I would arrive on a small plane with about 4 or 5 other passengers (usually businessmen). I was always the only kid. When I got here, it was the best feeling in the world. My heart would jump out of my chest when I saw the tiny man in denim overalls get bigger upon our aproach. He would grow from being a speck of blue on the grass next to the landing strip, until we would be close enough for me to make out his facial features. He was always smiling and squinting in the sun. He was my grandpa. I loved the roar of his laughter. His voice was old and grizzled with time; it sounded like the empty noise at the beginnning of a scratched record. I think I've liked Louis Armstrong's voice because it reminded me of my grandfather's. Anyhoo... Hello was always great. Goodbye; however, broke my heart. It's very much the same today. I've grown up in a lot of ways. Today, I pay two mortgages, take care of my dying mother, work two jobs, walk the dog, feed us all, do all of the chores, I am no longer afraid of the: dark, sharks, facing my death, or being single. I do still however, hate goodbyes. I guess one can't will one's self to grow up too quickly...or ever in some respects.