Goodbye Charles. Goodbye Gertie.
I followed you from Australia to Oklahoma, New York to Pensacola. We sojourned in Salt Lake City, holidayed in the Hamptons, cruised the coastline of Australia. I fell in love with both your parents, marveled at your wanderlust, ached to find out what was happening next in your most perfect life.
Travels with you both – how can I explain? That VW Bug, the ‘stang, the Indian. Calgary seemed so much cooler with you. The South shone. Seeing Paris through your eyes was as close to perfection as you could get. Every day travelling with you made me long for just one more day.
You showed me a life I never ever ever could have imagined. A life of travels, rented apartments, last minute getaways. Experiencing. Sensing. Creating. Creating. Creating. How I will miss enjoying your creativity in every, every, way.
I’m sorry I can’t keep following you, the reasons I suppose I’ll never be able to fully explain. I’m sorry I won’t be able to follow that amazing life – a life I could only ever dare imagine. A life away from the stifling office, away from crushing responsibility, away from the ordinary things that ordinary people do.
You made me dream of a life too beautiful for dreams.
Gertie, I’ll miss your pictures. Your drawings, your photos, your scribbles, your perfect way of creating life from a blank page. I’ll miss how you inspired Charles every day. I’ll miss the way you looked at him, the way you looked out for him, the way you seemed to draw out every perfect letter.
Charles, I’ll always be amazed at your words. I can’t tell you how much you’ve taught me, how you’ve shown me a glimpse of what is possible. Of being perfectly free to be nobody, but yourself. I’ll miss that about you, and I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone quite like you.
As I sit here on my porch, my mind half turns to my garden and my washing. My family and the job I hate going to. I think about the traffic on the highway and getting that little niggle on my bike fixed. My mind half turns to those things, but I wish I could escape for one last adventure. I wonder where you both would go – maybe back to Australia, maybe Asia, I hear the Pacific is perfect this time of year. Wherever you go, I wish I was there. I wish I could travel with you, and I’ll always be sorry I can’t continue on.
So goodbye Charles, and goodbye Gertie.
I will always love you.