Stairway to Heaven




Yesterday transcended typical earthly human interaction.

The moment I opened my eyes next to my S.O. on her birthday I knew in my gut things would unfold in a way beyond my mortal comprehension. I rolled to face her, wished her a her a happy one, and got up to go on my on my usual morning run. My pace seemed far swifter than normal. I got back, showered, and suited up for her late uncle's funeral. We had to take separate cars and I ended up driving her 17 year-old son to the church. It was our first time "hanging out" together and we were able to make a nice connection, chatting the entire drive. Good kid....smart, mature, vegan...would make a great match for Hannah...

I had met her uncle alive only once, about three weeks prior when we dropped off the kitten I had rescued to give to her cousins. He seemed a nice man, an honest salt-of the earth fellow who spent 50 years in the steamfitters' union and was a member of the local VFW and Moose lodge. At the church mass I met more of her extended family and was greeted with welcoming warmth.

In the afternoon I "met" my youngest son online in his Minecraft world. Toby won't meet me in person but is willing to play internet  games with me. It was very strange, sitting there at my laptop, hundreds of miles from him, his avatar and mine interacting inside a simulated environment. We decided to build a stairway as high as the game software would allow, and made a pool on the ground down below to "dive" into. We literally ascended our cartoon stairway, which went super high, far above the Minecraft block clouds, and jumped off the end, freefalling and splashing into a deep pool. It was very strange spending 90 minutes with my son this way. We haven't played together live in years, but were now Minecraft buddies.

Later on my girlfriend and I lounged around, intermittently napping on her sofa and binge watching Shameless (I still maintain I am NOT Frank Gallagher). Then she, I, and her sons went out for a birthday dinner at her favorite local restaurant. As we were seated, I got a text-

-It was from "Amy," the local poet/author with whom I am co-hosting a book-signing party next month to commemorate and celebrate the launch of our respective books; something I am really looking forward to. I had read her book of poetry, and she was making her way through mine. Apparently there was a passage which blew her away. In chapter 12, I describe "Sharon Elsbeth," one of Robert's preschool teachers and family friend who, at age 32, was given a fatal cancer diagnosis. Robert had once told her he loved her "infinity squared," a phrase which would become her rallying cry and representative of how she would live the rest of her days. A symbol was created which was displayed on her social media sites; a play was written in her honor, and jewelry was made by an artist friend.

Unknown to me, Sharon was theater school classmates with Amy. When Amy read the chapter about Robert and Sharon she immediately texted me. Sharon was Amy's mentor, and close friend right up until the end. So dear was she to Amy that Love x Infinity Squared is actually tattooed onto Amy's arm. I was simultaneously elated and humbled. I didn't really know Amy before our current collaboration, and now an original phrase my 4-year old son once uttered to his favorite teacher years ago was now a permanent fixture on her skin. Full circle, as only a benevolent HP could oh-so-delicately complete. 

My girlfriend's birthday. Her uncle's funeral. Bonding with her son. Building a stairway to Heaven with my own. My book, beloved Sharon, my son, and the Amy connection. 

Strange day indeed.



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