LETTERS FROM HOME: LISTENING AND WAITING FOR THAT DAY IN MAY

May 4, 1995

Dear David,

I'm waiting for that day in May. The one when the sky is azure, and trees and the river and hair and eyes seem to sparkle from within like diamonds.

The day it's warm enough just to wear a T-shirt, and everything feels good, tastes good, is good.

There's a stillness that day, the kind that coincides with sea changes.

Life has felt a bit like riding the Tilt-A-Whirl lately. Kind of out of control. There's too much to do on the new house so some days we do nothing. The basement and two upstairs bedrooms are full of unpacked boxes. I keep wondering when we'll move in.

Work is always busy too, and often the weekends seem to plan themselves without my participation. You know this feeling, don't you.

Last week, I found myself scanning magazines for a clue or maybe even an answer. Looking for some profundity to hold onto.

And this is what I found: "The shocking truth about your colon -- and what you can do about it!" Exclamation point included.

You know, the truth really is shocking.

So I've begun a fast, hoping to start some different habits -- like regular exercise and tortilla chip-free meals.

The first time I did this was because a girlfriend and I thought it sounded like a cool idea. But we turned it into competitive fasting. I won, I guess. Ten days without food celebrated at the end with a hamburger. Not cool.

Now I fast when I want to change something about myself. It gets rid of the old -- mostly toxins your body hasn't had a chance to dispose of because you're always shoveling in more -- and makes way for the new.

The hunger pangs go away after a day, and all manner of poisons start making for the exits.

You can understand your own body language better when your stomach isn't gurgling and processing the latest quarter-pound of flesh. Usually it says "Thanks."

Your birthday present is sitting in a bag in the corner. Too bad about the weather turning warmer.

I keep expecting a call on the weekend saying you're home for a visit. Or expect we'll pop up to St. Louis the first weekend nothing else is going on. Of course, something's always going on.

That's what I'd like to change, the feeling that life is happening TO me.

Reasserting control over your own body is one way to take charge again.

I'm starting small: No more colas. Hoping someday to build up to painting the house, inside and outside, putting up a new fence, installing a shower downstairs, buying new furniture, repairing the baseboards and the stairs, replacing the dining room wallpaper, visiting parents and friends, winning the Pulitzer Prize and unpacking those blasted boxes.

Latest music: the Dave Matthews Band. Have you heard "What Would You Say?" Unusual instrumental combination. The only guitar is an electrified acoustic. Violin, saxes, bass and drums. Not jazz, not exactly rock 'n' roll.

Matthews tosses off the lines like Beat poetry. Don't know that it is. "Up and down the puppies' hair, fleas and ticks jump everywhere. 'Cause of original sin."

You know and I know and Elvis Costello knows there's no such thing as an original sin. It's good music, though.

So I listen and wait for the perfect day in May.

Love, Sam

~Sam Blackwell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.