Saturday, December 18, 2010

Gifts.

Gifts.

#1


Nola.

My darling, you have my deepest apologies for my absence. Altogether it is out of my control as they’ve explained the distance is necessary after surgery. Further I regret the manner in which this message is relayed. Hands that are not my own put down these words and far too many sets of eyes will have seen them before they reach yours. Yours. The idea of that seems completely foreign to me. But by now you’ve received my gift as I’ve received yours.

Today I heard my own voice for the first time in over ten years. Darling what have you done? I’ve been given the precious gift of sound and you’re the one to thank. They tell me this is true but it can not be.
My kindest angel, how could you have done this? I can’t fathom the idea of what’s happened only that I will now be able to hear your beautiful song with my own ears.

The simple suggestion that I’ll hear your voice sends excitement throughout me. How did you manage my darling? A new song? You work too much. Or did your family help? Please send them word. I’m without the proper ability to convey my gratitude and can only anticipate my return to your side. It’s where I belong. Where I belong to you.

Our life together has been rich in so many ways that I can only attempt to visualize how it was while I’m away. That visualization is a pale shade of grey in comparison to reality. And the awareness that I can no longer create. There is no pretending that this burden of recovery becomes harder to bear without you everyday. As time draws nearer I realize that this time apart is no more than a breath in the long scope of our life together.

My darling, it is my hope that you’re now opening your eyes to the world. A world that you once expressed to me you wished to see through my eyes. To experience through my paintings. And now you will see things the way I do everyday. A world you make more beautiful with your existence. An existence that has inspired me to paint for many years. And despite that continued beauty there will be no more paintings.

Darling I hesitate to say but there is more. Understand that your gift was not an easy thing to acquire and there was a considerable fee. It was worth the price. Two hands. On the market a pair of ordinary hands might get a decent fee. But the skilled tools of an artisan are worth the price of sight. Darling, don’t be cross. In time I hope you can forgive me for my selfishness. Please realize that I only wanted to give you the world. And now you have it. Promise me the sound of your song when I return. It’s what keeps me focused in this breath of time without you.

You have my love. Victor.



#2


Victor.

My Love. By now you can hear me. I’ve taken the liberty of recording this message along with enclosing a written transcription.

You’ve been away far too long. Long enough for me to make this decision without you. This reminds me of the last time you left for work. Taking the scent of paint and canvas with you when you left for many months. Instantly I knew something was wrong during your time away.  I couldn’t see the possibility of your work taking you away for so long. And I was right. It wasn’t work. You were in trouble. Though I was surprised by your extended absence, I was relieved to hear of your survival and that your thoughts were occupied with me. Somehow you returned to me despite the odds. Then like now, it’s quite impossible to believe you’ve thought of me as I’ve thought of you. Yet I know you have. And now as I know, you must know what I’ve done. And soon you’ll hear the news…

There are no words to express my appreciation for your gift. You have surprised me. How is this possible? Two days ago I opened my eyes for the first time in my life to look upon the world. Amazed by a world I’ve never known. Sight was something I’d only experienced in my mind. The visual beauty of the world could only be imagined in dream. With your wonderful gift I’m able to experience something I may have never seen on my own. What did you sacrifice? I’m overjoyed at the implications of this gift. My only disappointment is that you’re not here with me to share in this joy.

Our life together has been filled with so much joy. It’s hardly fair that we have so much when others have so little. Before I continue please realize that our joy will remain prosperous. Like our flourishing joy there is much music in this world. And your paintings should be inspired by it. I can only hope that you will understand that my part in the music will be no more. There will always be the recordings and videotapes. It’s an acceptable loss to bear when we have so much joy in other places.

Since you know what I’ve done, you must know there is a price. There’s no easy way to approach this. I can’t keep secrets from you. My voice will be gone before you return. The tongue of a Soprano carries more weight in currency than that of a waitress. Certainly enough to provide the gift of sound. Understand that it wasn’t my desire to keep this arrangement from you. I only did because of the cost. A price you never would have allowed me to pay had you known. Before you rise quick to anger, remember that the world is no longer shrouded in mystery for either of us. Our joy will be endless when you return to me.

My love is with you. Nola.



Letters. Gifts. What’s the price? The truth in giving is based by your actions. Words have meaning and power, but only by their actions. Actions have meaning and power by their realization. Money can provide material and comfort. But it can not change the most basic of needs for everyone. Some need when we do not need. What you give another person is of yourself. It’s not for what is coming next. Giving is selfless. Enjoy. kisses. m.

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