“But mostly, I cried because my life had been going full speed for so long and now it had just stopped, like running right into a big brick wall, knocking the wind and the fight right out of me. And I didn’t know if I’d ever even wanted to get up and start breathing again.”

- Sarah Dessen

This quote embodies the day I was notified and the months and years to follow (and even random moments in my day-to-day life).

I never thought I’d be here.

Alive.

Living….thriving…without my love by my side.

At first I held back from a smile or a good time, in fear that it would be dishonoring him. But with time and introspection, I realized that by doing so…holding back..I was dishonoring him.

Our loves don’t die for us to shrivel up into a ball, to live in a cave, and become Gallum-like. But in the beginning I couldn’t grasp that.

But the winds of time and his love blew away those mis-conceptions, and with that came the realization that I was going to get up…I was going to start breathing once again.

Man, do I love him, with every ounce of my being.

I still have those choke-up moments in realizing how far I’ve come…how much I’ve lived…

Those moments where I’m shocked at my soul’s capacity to survive…

My face’s ability to smile…

My arm’s ability to embrace…

But even in that astonishment,

I am never,

never,

astonished by my heart’s capacity to pump our love through my veins.

And with that knowledge, nearly four years later, I am able to live.

I am living.

I hit the wall…

But I stood up.

I’m standing.

I dreamed of him last night. My dreams aren’t too off from the real world. In them I know he is dead. And yet, in this Inception like reality, I still think maybe there is someway his world and mine can merge, if only for a couple of hours in my sleep.

In the dream, there was one moment that stood out more than any other.

I was walking beside my love, both of us aware of each others presence. I looked down at his hand which I so greatly wanted to grasp, but hesitated almost in fear that my dream world would start collapsing for not following some code. I looked down at his hand, looked up seeking some mighty voice to say it would be ok, and then he grabbed it, and in that moment I felt something that I haven’t felt in nearly four years.

Bliss. Pure bliss in knowing my hand was locked in the one place it will one day be locked into for eternity. Ahead of us in my dream was my sister and her husband, and I just remember her turning around, looking at me and Michael, and saying, “You look so happy (the exclusive kind of Michael happy).”. Which was followed by me smiling the way only those who witnessed our love together could remember the sight of.

From there, things start getting a little loco and then I awoke. I laid there knowing the feelings I had felt that night had taken me over in my unconscious and soaked through to my conscience, and I found myself trying to fall back asleep a bit longer in order to search or remember any other bits.

I’ve always loved my dreams that he’s in (minus the ones where he feels so far away…which over the years I’ve learned to shrug off), and I felt like last night’s dream was him reminding me that those feelings will always be there when I need them the most. The feelings of untouchable love, that may be tested and torn by the winds of time, but will always stand tall and guiding like a beacon of light.

This is my life and our life together. I cannot change its course, but it’s always nice to reminded I’m on the right one.

SO in love with you, baby.

I have had dreams and I have had nightmares, but I have conquered my nightmares because of my dreams.

- Jonas Salk

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• Recent Repeated Dream Messages (deniselefay.wordpress.com)

But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
-Pablo Neruda

Someone once said that it is knowledge sets us free, but as I’ve learned, everyone’s knowledge is different.

After Michael died I knew nothing but one thing in life. I could no longer answer questions on why or how things turned out as they did. I could not tell you right from left. As time has passed though, I have embraced the unknown and learned to accept it as a companion on my journey here on earth.

Still though, there are those times, those gut-wrenching, bring you to your knees moments in which the lack of knowledge of how one has ended up in the predicament they’re in, can run a muck on the soul we each carry inside of us.

I don’t know why I can’t hold the hand or kiss the lips of my one true love, I don’t know why his vehicle had to be the one to be absorbed by the 2,00 pound blast, I don’t know why I must sometimes wander in a world in which few understand me…and yet…as overpowering and heartbreaking as some of these things may be I can only  return to the one true thing I know…the northern light in a world that sometime has no direction….

I know I am loved…but not only loved but in love with my counterpart…my chosen one…my compass.

It’s all I know in a place that sometimes feels like a dark alleyway.

And that is all the knowledge I need…it’s all I need….and I am free.

If I had to choose between loving you and breathing, I would use my last breath to say, “I Love You.”

This Thursday will mark our 5 year wedding anniversary. As I’ve stated through the years, this day has always been more difficult for me than any other…including the day he was killed.

You see, I don’t define Michael’s life and our life together by the day he was killed, I’ve always defined it by our eternal love, and no day signifies that more than when we exchanged vows.

We clasped hands from the first moment, rocking into each other, looking into each others eyes in a sort of dream like gaze, exchanging words that were more than words, letters that when compiled and verbalized explained our unfaltering devotion and feelings towards each others. Verbalized our future and our present, all that we were thankful for the other teaching/allowing us to experience.

With the go-go-go of the past couple of months, it feels good to sit here and reminisce about a moment that lives on in me forever, and through those that for a brief period in time, saw the union of two souls connected beyond measure.

I miss looking into his eyes, kissing his lips, knowing that that moment in time all was as it should be. But the angst of separation is still overpowered by that which surpasses all the physical, something that words haven’t been created for, yet we exchanged them that evening. The knowing…the absolute knowledge that we will spend eternity together, even if briefly in two different realms.

One of the last letters Michael and I exchanged, I told him there were no words created for just how much I love him…so i created one. I called it: loveinity.

I loveinity you baby (and am so in lonveinity with you)…Happy Almost Anniversary, My Love.

I’ve always taken my own path. I like the fresh, uncharted dirt beneath my feet, the barren terrain of land not crossed by others. Yes, as Michael would say, I lived in the clouds, a world of my own, but he never tried to change that, and in all honesty, I think it’s one of the things he loved so much about me. It’s the Christopher Columbus in me, which did lead me to him to begin with.

After Michael died though, I forgot about this land, the trail of life I was blazing. Soon my life became consumed by the “What would Michael want me to do?” I had lost my inner compass, my sense of direction, and leaned on Michael to show me the way.

This sustained me for a little while, but I felt Michael fading more in presence.

Then it hit me. How or why would I feel his presence and guidance when I was losing and forgetting that I was my guide all along. I was losing me, in this pursuit to let go of my steering wheel, hold my hands up and expect for  there not to be a crash.

Once I realized that to continue on my journey to him, my journey through this life without him, my journey, I had reclaim that girl that “lived in the clouds”. That girl that had a machete in one hand to cut her way through an alien world.

I’ve found her. Piece by piece, new and old me’s, gleam beneath the gravel of life they’ve been hidden in.

It feels good. To have that compass inside of me working. It feels good to know that at the end of my pioneering this life before me I’ll be with my soul mate.

I remembered that the only phrase I needed to ask myself the whole time, “What would Taryn do?” and it’s a phrase that has brought his loving presence back into my life more powerful than ever.

There is great meaning in life for those who are willing to journey.

-Jim England

It happens.

A song plays. A breeze brushes past my face. A scene from a movie crosses the screen. I stand in the kitchen for no certain reason. A sunset paints itself across the horizon. Our dog sticks his head out the window. I lay silently in bed.

These diminutive things take place, and from head to toe I am overwhelmed with how much I am in love with him. How much of his love gives me random moments of bliss and makes me thankful to be around to feel them.

It’s the equivalent to his 6’2 self wrapping his arms around me. A kiss of his lips on my forehead. Awakening to find him watching me.

It’s the same sensation, just in a new form. A form that makes all well in this tornado of a world I live in.

I don’t know where they come from or why, but they are a reminder of the capacity of happiness that is and can be felt in this soul of mine. A whisper from his soul into mine. A promise that he’s always with me. A promise that all will be well.

And remember, no matter where you go, there you are.

~Confucius

I remember the day. It was two months after Michael was killed and I found myself sitting on our big red chair, laptop in hand. Tears welled up in my eyes as I scrolled through the hundreds of photos I had of Michael. It would take a moment till I finally realized what I was doing. As I passed through each picture I would only look at Michael. When I finally looked over at myself, the real pain settled in my heart. A pain that recognized that I had not only lost my soul mate, but along with him, myself.

The twinkle in my eyes, the smile on my face, the glow of having my love near-by…all those things were gone, and I felt like an empty shell staring at what it once was when a soul inhabited it.

I must say, three years later, I know that those expressions I shared  in the moments where I looked up at him, kissed his lips, held his hand…those moments will never be recreated, as they were exclusive to the man that unearthed them from the person I was before his love came into my life. Yet on another note, as I’ve healed,  as I’ve grasped back onto the core or who Taryn is,  I’ve learned to once again love the life that still is before me. New expressions are exposed…expressions of love, laughter, happiness, and contentment.

I no longer mourn the loss of the person I was when Michael was alive. I can look at those same photos that once brought me tears and smile reminiscing over the feelings I felt at that very moment, feelings that manifested out of the rubble in a new form, shaped to the life I never thought I’d have, the life I will look back on in photographs with happiness…happiness over the person I once was, the person I became, and the person I continue to court on this strange, alien yet beautiful, life I call my own.

]]> http://aloveinterrupted.wordpress.com/2010/07/21/1157/ Wed, 21 Jul 2010 07:20:55 +0000 Taryn http://aloveinterrupted.wordpress.com/2010/07/21/1157/

One restless night of blog surfing, I saw someone post the exact number of days since they lost their soul mate.

I must admit, I stopped long ago in counting the exact days and months since Michael was killed. Knowing such numbers, especially in the never-ending days in the beginning of my grief, seemed like mental suicide. As much as I’m a believer that each day on earth is a day closer to them in heaven, I couldn’t fathom marking and taking note of each day without him…that is a loss in my being that no month, date, calendar, or clock can construe.

Yet I admit, as I stared at the widowers days numbered, I was tempted to find out my own. I found a site that allowed me to find out the duration from date to date…

“Submit” was clicked.

1157 days can be converted to one of these units:

* 99,964,800 seconds
* 1,666,080 minutes
* 27,768 hours
* 165 weeks (rounded down)

I stared at the numbers.

I wasn’t numb. I wasn’t in shock. I simply looked at them, shook my head, and closed the page.

As much as I can’t believe that it has been that long since everything happened (and had I been earlier out I may have had a different reaction) I’ve learned one thing above all;
In 1157 days I have struggled, cried, given up, stood back up, laughed, smiled, grown, cried some more, scorned the heavens above, thanked the heavens above, given up on life, taken back my life, fallen to my knees…prevailed.

I look at 1157 with pride, not pain.

I have survived 1157 days without my soul mate physically here. I have fallen deeper in love with the man who took a new form and shown me a new perspective on our amazing relationship and my new life.

Just as I couldn’t count the days or months these past 3 years because I felt that no number would ever bring back my love or erase the heartache felt because of his death…no number or date can be put on the length and depth of our love…but when I am given the chance (or the curiosity) to see a number, it will be one that reminds me of the strength born from both of those things.

My name is Taryn Davis. My life ended 1157 days ago….but in the last 1157 days it has come back from the dead…stronger then ever…fueled by the essence of any life…the knowledge that is has true love on its side.

“I don’t understand what’s happened to me?”

“It’s huge. You’ve finely embraced the life you hadn’t planned on.”

This quote from a movie just keeps echoing in my brain.

I’ve noticed that, with quotes and words…they have a way of sticking to the sides of your mind during different parts of our life.

Some temporarily to help you get through the day or empower you to march on, others to bring you comfort in knowing that your pain has been felt by another, and in this case, to remind me that as much as i may have never fathomed it….I’m embracing this life I have.

The funny thing is…I don’t understand it either.

I guess it’s like most things in my life since Michael was killed…out of nowhere, it just happened.

I guess the only way to describe it is like being in line for a REALLY scary rollercoaster. One that you didn’t want to ride but got pulled into line for. Plus on top of that…it’s a really looonnnggg line, so any hesitation and fear you have in actually getting on is enhanced by the fact that you must now wait, watch, and either walk through the other coaster-goers (head down of course) back to the entrance you came in through, or stay in line, hope for the best, and take the exit you were made to take. If you decide the latter route, I (at least) am one of those folks that has to ask everyone around me if they have been on this ride before; “Is it scary?”, “How many times have you been on it?”, “It’s not that bad? Are you sure?” and of course, as the questions take place you hear screaming from those who have already met their fate with the metal mammoth.  Then I get jumpy like, ‘I’m going to do this, woo…yeah!”, while secretly hoping that I can play the “I really have to go to the restroom” card.

But then it happens! You look up and the wait is over and you are asked to take your seats (hopefully you’ll be sat next to one of the new friends you’ve made in line). The bars go down and before you can even anticipate anything, your zooming off.

That’s how life’s been after Michael’s death. Lots of fear, having to ask others who have been on this ride before, or on for the first time, how they feel about it, and before you know it you’re going full speed ahead, with plenty of loops and turns thrown in.

I guess the important thing to do when the ride finally takes off is to put your arms up, keep your eyes open, scream as loud as you can, and when it concludes, if given the chance, get back in line and ride it all over again.

Embrace the life you hadn’t planned on.

It started with a call from CJ (my brother in law), letting me know that him and Kenzi we’re heading to the hospital to have their baby girl.

Rewind to 9 months earlier; it was another dinner and movie night at our home and Kenzi and CJ walked in, stood in the entrance and announced they were going to have a baby. When the words came out of their mouths, it was one of the moments in which the finality of Michael not being there to be a part of this chapter of their lives sank in.

Those moments aren’t few and far between, but there are those certain times where it really hits you that the moments where you are supposed to be hand in hand to congratulate your sister on her pregnancy, or see another sister walk down an aisle, or my mom and dad hold their first grandchild, aren’t going to happen.

You see, in the 3 years that my baby’s been dead, I’ve come to terms and accepted the reality of us not having our beautiful children, sharing exciting moments in our lives with family, and growing old together. I guess I wasn’t quite prepared or had even thought about what it would be like when our loved one’s started to do those things, and how I would react.

But as they stood in the entrance, waiting for my reply that October evening, I smiled and the first words to exit my heart and then my mouth were, “Congratulations! Wow! All I can say is that Michael would have loved to be here to tell you how much I know it means for him to be an uncle to your child.”

I knew that over the duration of her pregnancy, and the duration of Kora’s life, I’d be able to physically show them my excitement and joy in being her Aunt, but at that moment, I just wanted them to know what was most important for me to have them understand, and that is the fact that as Michael’s soul counterpart, he will be there in everything I do, and in all the moments I have with her, and that is something I had learned that only other widows may truly understand.

But with tears in her eyes, She smiled and said, “I know.”

After that understanding and acceptance of what I know to be true, I became their biggest cheerleaders during her pregnancy. Cards for first ultra-sounds and doctor appointments, taking pregnancy photos, creating a stock of ultra cool baby things that Michael and I would have laughed over, and even buying her alcohol-free wine for our dinner nights.

I was liberated by the fact that not only me, but Michael, could celebrate in this special occasion, and they knew, understood, and liked it.

Today I went to the hospital to see the new family, and the first thing they did was open the card I brought. Signed by my family: Michael, Me, Charlie and Maximus.

They set it on display and for the next 3 hours we laughed about how big Michael was when he was born (10.5lbs), talked about who Kora looked like, and for a moment, it was if Michael was standing behind me as I held Kora, his warm hands placed on my shoulders, looking down on our niece. For a moment, life was as perfect as their baby.

If it hadn’t had been for Kora, I wouldn’t have learned that as some life’s big moments occur sans Michael, that I actually have him there more then ever, and feel like life is as it’s supposed to be.

Thank you, Kora.

I promise you that Michael and I will show you the love that we have shown each other, and with that, I know your life will be amazing.

It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us aunts and uncles.
~Johann Schiller

Sincerely,
Miss S.

Dear Miss S.-

It’s absolutely vital to get out of the house when you’re doing affirmations. You want to put yourself in the path of every good man who comes your way. One of the great benefits of doing affirmations is they help you clarify what you want, and they certainly help you to recognize it when it comes along.

I’ve heard good things about Match and Plenty of Fish, so give them a try. But it’s also entirely possible to meet the love of your new life in the supermarket or at the bank. It’s not ever necessary, productive, or attractive to leave the house on a hunt for a man, but it is critical that you go about your life in a pleasant frame of mind.

Be kind to others. Be your best. As my friend and colleague Ronnie Ann Ryan counsels, be delightful. You never know who you’ll meet. It just might be the mother or the brother of the man who will someday make you very happy.

I think your instincts regarding the man you’re seeing now are excellent. You are recently widowed, so if you continually find yourself attracted to complicated or difficult or unavailable men, ask yourself if you’re truly ready for a committed relationship.

Losing a spouse can’t be easy, so please take very good care of yourself.

Do you know?

Know what your love has gotten me through, lifted me above, allowed me to see and my heart to follow?

I’m not sure. But one day you will know when I’m back in front of you and able to share the places your love has guided me to, and the people, the amazing people, that reminded me when all else failed, to listen to that voice, that hope and that strength that you gave me as your gift.

The gift I’ll never be able to repay, but the gift I swear to wear out, over-indulge in, stretch thin, and never get tired of.

Thank you for your love. Thank you for choosing me to give it to.

As noted last weekend, the 21st marked 3 years since my hero’s death, but tradition continues of being around amazing widows leading up to or after the date.

This past week we were in Fayetteville, NC for our annual golf tournament for the organization, followed by our annual AWP Skydive!

Like all of our events, we have a definite melting pot of women at all different places in their journey. We spent time racing around in golf carts, talking till 4 in the morning, and lastly, suiting up to jump 13,500 feet out of a perfectly good plane for my 3rd year in a row.

During all of the festivities I have to say that I have never laughed so hard in the 3 years since Michael’s passing. Not just laughing, not even snorting laughter (which I’m known for), but hurled over holding my belly laughter.

Each year that I can make on notch on the widowhood belt, I’m left amazed at all that my fellow widows do for me in the continual process of healing a heart that has gone through the most devastating of losses.

As the trip came to a close, sleep deprived, in need of a shower or two, and smeared eyeliner accompanying the proud bags underneath my eyes, I looked in the mirror to see a noticeable change after my three not long enough days.

Not just a brighter sparkle in my eyes, but more evident, very well defined smile lines on each side of my mouth. Two lines that we’re a parenthesis to the grin that never left my face during my time with them. Lines that I proudly wear and look forward to deepening as the year’s pass with my fellow widows ,who help me make the stories that form the evidence of a live well lived.

I love you all!

Three…

Three whopping years since it happened.

Since my soul mate went to the other side and I ventured out in the unfamiliar world called widowhood.

The Angel-versary is always a time where I look back on the time that has passed, things that have been conquered, feelings that have been realized, and growth that has taken place. As I drove in my car one evening, thinking of these things, thinking of THREE, one thing took precedent.

In the rehashing of all that has transpired, what came to mind the most were the three words that have got me through it all. Three words that he said to me for the last time on May 21st, 2007. Three words that have not only carried through my grief but helped me soar above it’s grasps into a life where smiles are more prevalent then frowns, and memories are recalled while making new ones.

Three words that on this three year anniversary will be heard in my heart and felt in my veins. Three words that have defined my being.

Three….

I LOVE YOU.

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. ‘Pooh?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, Piglet?’
‘Nothing,’ said Piglet, taking Pooh’s hand. ‘I just wanted to be sure of you.’”
-A.A. Milne

I’d be lying if there weren’t moments where I begged for a sign, dream, feeling that you were here…around.

Like a detective I’d search for clues or signals…but my magnifying lens, in turn, seemed to blind me.

It’s not a matter of the physical…that was something I had acclimated to not having or needing long before you were taken. It was more of that sense that in my deepest moments of despair you’d appear out of smoke to wipe away my tears.

But I forced it.

I begged and pleaded.

And it equated to me not feeling what was there all along.

Your presence…unfaltering presence..in a place that I could not see with my eyes, or figure out with my mind…

but felt it lodged, deep in my heart.

I’m sure of you.

I’m sure of you.

I sure don’t sound the same, and definitely don’t look the same, but I sure do feel the same each time I watch it.

Love you mucho mucho.

“I define comfort as self-acceptance. When we finally learn that self-care begins and ends with ourselves, we no longer demand sustenance and happiness from others.” -Jennifer Louden

Let me just say how much I love this quote. I really should print it on cards and hand it out to those who make the snide remarks that I will not be able to be happy until “move on” or somehow refuse to acknowledge the smile on my face when they see no one is standing at my side.

In my later years of college, single, partied out, and facing a world sans boyfriend…I found self-acceptance. I learned to love ME as ME. Flaws, bad decisions and all (and believe me when I say had a few). That was a trying time, as I believe we sometimes are our worst critics. But I did it, I peeled the layers of my onion and saw a new life before me, one like play-doh; bright, colorful and ready for me to mold.

Well, a little less than 9 months later Michael came back into my life and my own personal happiness was their, but enhanced by my soul mate…caught on fire. Maybe that’s why separation did nothing but enhance our relationship more, not strain it, because the happiness never faded, and still hasn’t to this day. Others just seem to have a hard time grasping on to the “sustenance and happiness” which still run through this widow’s veins.

So as I walk on this journey, I’ve dusted off my “self-care”…which was gathering dust…and decided to continue the path of happiness I found on my own, found enhanced by my soul mate, and found resurrected like a phoenix out of the ashes.

It is no secret…. my engagement ring is part of me. When he slipped it on my finger that September day, it symbolized more then our unity, but more so our eternal love, undying dedication and taking this journey together…never faltering.

It is a main reason that I wanted Michael cremated with his on. It eternalized it. It cemented what was already done.

When Michael went to pick mine out, he asked “What do you want, baby?”

Of course, being the girl, I had preconceptions on what I thought I’d want it to look like, how it would be cut, etc.

But it was in that moment, as his green eyes stared down at me endearingly…that it all melted away.

“I want you to pick something out, that when you look at it, you think of me.” I replied.

It didn’t have filigree nor was it channeled with many stones. It was a simple cathedral setting with a princess cut diamond.

But as simple as its setting, oh how that diamond glowed. Its facets reflecting colors I had never seen. A simple cut to hide its many complexities.

I stare at the ring so often, and finally see why Michael chose it. It’s the perfect combination of us both…it’s our ring <3

I wanted to touch base on guilt, as I believe it has played a role in my grief with Michael’s loss.

The guilt that he died and I lived

The guilt of the things he never got to experience that I know have been.

The guilt of having eyes to still see this world’s beauty and ears to hear its melodies.

The guilt of knowing that he would have handled this pain, loss, and life better then I could, if it had been me to go instead.

The guilt that is created in my over-thinking mind…fictional and factual.

The guilt has sub-sided though, as I know it is a belt of weights I buckled around my waist…a belt that never was supposed to weigh on my hips, my being, my soul.

You see, guilt was never a component of our life (even though I may have used it as a defense mechanism in a disagreement…bad Taryn), so it makes no sense that I would make it a part of my life now, and the love that is still ours.

But I apologize, to Michael and the others around me, for the moments where I let guilt’s claws take their grasp on a moment that could have been put in the light it deserved.

Now I can’t say that it doesn’t creep up at moments where life is a-glow and I feel as if I’m surrounded by a bubble of positivity…but those are just the workings of my brain….
not my heart.

“Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death.”
-Coco Chanel

So a little story… a story I love to tell.

It was February 12th, 2009, and I decided to do something I had given up after Michael’s passing…create homemade Valentine’s Day cards. Making cards was one of my favorite things and with it being a dismal part of the year, I was secretly hoping it would lift my spirits. Michael used to love recieving them and seeing all the little touches I’d add to make it special.

So I pulled out my box of paints, papers, embellishments and more. I grabbed enough to strat creating and sat at my kitchen table. The first card was made without a hitch, but it was as I created my second one that it happened…grief decided to make an uninvited visit, and the tear’s soon followed. Oh, what I would do to have spent that Valentines with Michael, to just hear him say, “I love you”…those thoughts and more clouded my brain as fast as the tears clouded my eyes.

But no!! I could not let this stop me…”I just need to find even brighter papers and paints, maybe the perfect quote on vellum….I’ll go back to the box and continue forward. ” was what I told myself. So I got up, went back to closet and pulled out the box, digging for something…I didn’t quite know what. I sifted through a rainbow of colored papers, paintbrushes, cardstock, and more. I lifted one stack and noticed a tiny sliver of paper with the ink of a sharpie seeping through the back.

I knew it had to be something written by Michael, he always wrote with sharpies. The pain from my very recent breakdown gave me a moment of hesitation is which I feared to turn it over and read it’s words.

I put my hand into the box and slowly pulled out the ruled paper. Sitting on the floor, I flipped it over….

“Happy Valentine’s Day”

Written in his handwriting (all caps)….waiting for me in that box, in that closet, in my office….waiting for me to find it 2 days before Valentine’s Day, to let me know he was there.

“A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.”
-J. R. R. Tolkien

2.28.09

As I lay and feel my

heart

beat,

I think of lying against

your perfect body.

Beat

after

beat

it throbbed against you,

like two drums playing a flawless duet.

Tears run down my face

thinking of its sound….

familiar sound.

¿De qué trata?: Todo está preparado para el viaje inaugural de la nave más moderna que jamás se haya creado: la USS Enterprise. Su joven tripulación tiene una importante misión: encontrar una manera de detener al malvado Nero (Eric Bana), que movido por la venganza amenaza a toda la humanidad. Pero el destino de la galaxia está en manos de dos jóvenes rivales que nacieron en mundos diferentes. Uno de ellos, Tiberio James Kirk (Chris Pine), joven de una granja de Iowa que busca emociones, es un líder nato a la búsqueda de una causa. El otro, Spock (Zachary Quinto), que creció en el planeta Vulcano, es un paria debido a su parte medio humana, lo que lo hace susceptible a la inestabilidad de las emociones de los Vulcanos. Pero Spock es también un brillante y decidido estudiante. La tripulación de la USS está liderada por el Capitán Christopher Pike (Bruce Greenwood). También están el Oficial Médico, Leonard “Bones” McCoy (Karl Urban); el hombre que pasará a ser el ingeniero jefe del buque, Montgomery “Scotty” Scott (Simon Pegg); el oficial de comunicaciones Uhura (Zoe Saldana); el experimentado Timonel Sulu (John Cho) y el joven de 17 Chekov (Anton Yelchin). Todos se enfrentan a un angustioso primer ensayo.

Comparativo de los actores de la serie de 1966 con los del 2009

En 1966, una serie creada por Gene Roddenberry batía con todos los records de audiencia, marcando un hito en la historia de la pantalla chica, “Star Trek”. Casi 45 años después, después de absolutos fracasos en el cine como Star Trek Némesis, llega este film de J.J. Abrams (el creador de “Lost”) dirige esta nueva película de la saga, que se podría considerar la mejor de todas. Es muy fiel a la obra original, y da como un nuevo espacio hacia otras películas futuras de la saga. Lo que hace J.J aquí con la franquicia es similar a lo que hizo Christopher Nolan en el 2005 con Batman Begins, ya que las dos son magnificas películas.

Yo nunca he sido fan de Star Trek.  Yo francamente crecí con los episodio IV, V y VI de Star Wars, pero hay algo que me llamó mucho de esta cinta, y fué el hecho de no ser una continuación a algo tan ajeno al público común sino traernos los orígenes de una saga que a la par de Star Wars es considerado un clásico dentro de la ciencia ficción.  Esta película cumple con todos los elementos de una película de ciencia ficción. Y aquí en este caso, se nota el trabajo que tiene J.J. Abrams en la dirección de blockbusters (a pesar que su nombre esté vendido en Cloverfield). La pericia que tiene en reconstruir este universo es bastante notable. Además le da un caracter fresco y ameno. Sin embargo, platicando con muchos Treekies, noté un poco de desencanto en ellos al decir que la película está muy bien hecha y realizada pero que no capta todo el concepto de lo que es Star Trek argumentando que antes la serie tenia un transfondo científico, idealista y hasta en filosofía y que ahora se muestra una simpática y estruendosa cinta hecha méramente para entretener.

El Enterprise

De alguna manera esto es injusto, medir esta película con los mismos cánones originales no es correcto, pues estamos hablando de épocas totalmente diferentes. Esta versión se me hizo muy acorde a la época, renovando esta franquicia a un público joven y dinámico. El espectador se ve inmerso en las 2 horas que dura la película, todo está perfectamente calculado. Lo mejor que se puede decir de este film, es que no solo contenta a los seguidores de la saga sino aquellos espectadores que ni hayan oido hablar de Vulcano, ni de los phasers, ni del teletransporte. El guión, brillante, enlazando con toda la mitología de la serie y las películas. Épica, entretenida, emocionante y espectacular en todos los sentidos. Se nota que la película es bastante respetuosa con los fanáticos y con la saga original, ¿por qué no pueden ser otros estudios así de profesionales y responsables?

Al grano: La música del maestro Michael Giacchino, las imperdibles secuencias de acción, un guión estructurado y emocionante, y la labor de J.J. Abrahams consagran ya la primera película del verano que me ha dejado muy contento de haberla visto.

* * * * / 5

La nueva generación Star Trek

10.27.09

“You’re in our thoughts and prayers” “God will help you through this” yada yada yada……. Note to non widows…..fuck prayer. I prayed everyday, unconsciously every minute of every day. As I drove home to find soldiers at my door I prayed continuously until I saw them there waiting for me. One of the first things I remember screaming after learning of Michael’s fate was, “There is no fucking God!” How could someone one who is supposedly supposed to answer our prayers and help us through all are ordeals be so cruel. I remember when I got caught smoking weed my freshman year in high school. I was sure it was god punishing me or him letting me know it wasn’t right. I have no answers on why he would do this to Michael. I don’t think I will ever find the answers I want, because the only one I’ll take is Michael at my door step when I get home.
I want to tell all those out there, who “Pray” for me to not waste there breath. I know that they believe they think it was there prayers that stopped them from having the same outcome that happened to me. So they will keep praying and asking god to heal me and my broken heart. If there was a god, I would ask him to show all the “others” what we widows are going through so they would know when to bite there fucking tongues.
There is one thing I will ask the God of ours for. I will ask him that if he wants to help me in anyway then he will make sure that when my time here is up…..that the first thing I will see is that beautiful face of my baby. The one I so much loved to touch, kiss and smile with. Until that time comes I just ask that the rest of my time her goes by fast.
I love you baby and I’m SOO in love with you.
*kisses*

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