PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Today I posted a poem, entitled "@ 27.055 MHz:  Ad Astra; The Lovers' Encounter, After A Parting Involuntary But Temporary," in which I described the fervently intimate reunion of lovers who had been parted for a little while; and I notated it a reference to the period (shown in the title of this essay above) during which J-Wave and I were parted while I attended the first term of my freshman undergraduate year at a college more than an hour's drive from our hometown, where I lived in a dormitory.

Shortly after I was adopted, at five months old, my parents began to plan for me to attend that college.  Although I was also accepted at two colleges to which I could have easily commuted while living at home, my parents refused to provide tuition for those two local institutions.  They agreed to finance the tuition only at that single college of their choice, where I had also been accepted early in my senior year in High School.

During the summer following my graduation from High School, J-Wave and I accelerated and intensified our friendship.  One of the benefits of this was my acceptance, through J-Wave, into the community of our local c.b. channel 22, for which I also used the handle Starwatcher.  That handle, acquired on Saturday, July 10th, 1976, suddenly and irrevocably bestowed upon me a sense of my own identity no longer dependent on, or overshadowed by, my parents' personalities and prejudices.  They vociferously disapproved of my friendship with J-Wave, suspecting it to be perverse (although my Father, unexpectedly, seemed more sympathetic than my mother---whose remarks about J-Wave were brutally cruel); they were aghast that I had not only spent part of the money gifted to me, in the previous month, for my graduation to purchase my c.b. radio; and, because they believed themselves socially superior to the people who talked on c.b. radios, regardless of the channel number, they disparaged my friends on channel 22---but always privately, usually over the evening meal.

They believed and, I think, most assidiously hoped that my departure to the college of their choice on the morning of Thursday, Septemher 9th, 1976, would, like a kind of surgery, amputate from me the friendship with J-Wave, and the community of channel 22 as well.  On our last evening of that summer together, Tuesday, September 7th, J-Wave had assured me that I need not worry about the loss of his friendship; but, because I was too immature and naive to have much faith, I did not receive much comfort from his assurance (and that was my fault, not his).  

On the night of September 9th, laying in my bed in my room in the dormitory (and already aware that my roommate and I would not ever be more than geographical neighbors and acquaintances; reluctant and ivoluntary sharers of the same first floor room), I wept for several hours over my separation from J-Wave.  And at least once every waking hour, every day and night, I thought about him; and always behind those thoughts was the terror that our summer friendship had ended.

During that term, serendipity brought me to some amazing experiences:  my discovery of the Poetry of T. S. Eliot; learning that the term, Starwatcher, was the standard translation of an ancient Egyptian term for the scholars who observed the sky and also determined the accuracy of clocks and calendars---such as they were then; and, during finals week (November 20th through the 24th; I had only one final, on the 20th, so I was free to depart anytime after that), my first reading of Boris Pasternak's novel, Doctor Zhivago---which was my second perfunctory introduction to the grandeur of the Faith and theology of the Orthodox Church.  That novel was also about loss, and terror, and the presence of hope undaunted by either.  My parents were unable to transport me home until Tuesday evening, so, having purchased the novel on Saturday the 20th (the bookstore being uncustomarily open on the weekend due to finals week), I started to read it,  and finished it shortly before my parents arrived late Tuesday afternoon.  Transporting me home, they took me to dinner at a rather expensive steakhouse.  Their attempts at conversation seemed very awkward; as if they wanted to avoid any consideration of what the next few weeks would bring.

When we arrived home, after bringing my few pieces of luggage in, I spent some time with my cocker spaniel, Monica, whose demonstrated affection had not changed during my absence.  Then I checked a particular drawer in the chest of drawers in my room, and found my c.b. radio exactly where I had left it.  I put my jacket back on, picked up my c.b., and made my way to the front door.  My parents seemed very offended---but explained their offense as disappointment that I would not stay and watch M*A*S*H with them (an excuse that was transparnetly false, as I had not watched that television series with them since before I graduated High School).  I put my c.b. into my car, started the engine, and drove away; and then, with some trepidation, connected to channel 22.  For a brief moment, I was fearful of receiving no response, but as soon as I identified as Starwatcher, I received a very warm welcome from several people.  One of them even told me how, about a week after my departure in September, some adolescent had attempted to appropriate my handle and use it.  But, led by J-Wave, the regulars---or, rather, the pillars---of channel 22 had dilligently protected my handle by exercizing the dead key each time the interloper attempted to gain entrance to the channel, and finally he withdrew permanently.  When I attempted to contact J-Wave, I was told that he was working a part time job in fast food (for this was the Autumn of his Senior year in High School), and she asked if I would like to pick him up that night.  I did, and discovered, rather rapidly, that our friendship had not been affected, in the least, by my absence.  

Although my parents compelled me to work during the Holiday break---on the road survey crew (as I had the previous two summers), and J-Wave had to work two weekday evenings a wekk, he and I managed to be together every possible moment available to us.  During that all too brief period---perhaps the most splendid Holiday season of my life---I learned to enjoy, without fear of loss, what was truly lasting and what, despite my return to the college on the afternoon of Sunday, January 2nd, 1977, would remain with me to sustain me during the storms that sometimes surrounded me.  I was not wise enough to always, consistently, remember or keep aware of this.  Eventually, Starwatcher evolved to Starward; which then was relinquished for, and succeeded by, J-Called (more spiritually representative to me than the previous two); but that awareness of the lasting blessings has returned during this time, which I believe to be the final stage of my life.

Thank you for reading this,

J-Called