at long last i hear kyle's voice again

i couldn't get by Forest Lawn today. i worked all day without a break and would have arrived after dark. i hate not going by to clean ky's marker and leave some flowers.

when i got home, on my computer desktop iMovie was open. i vaguely remembered clicking on it by mistake as i was leaving for work in a hurry. i thought about the movie ky was working on the years before his death, the one he'd shown to me when he was home that last memorial day weekend. i start going through the clips.

they are as i remember, for the most part: drive-by shots of the streets and highways of San Francisco, clips of graffiti and tags, a tour of his haunts, and once or twice he's on a bus. some he took at the Venice graffiti wall or driving in LA. the soundtrack is usually the noisy street, sometimes the music on a CD player, sometimes the sounds of the car. (at time i'm not sure whose car he was in or who was driving.) sometimes there is silence and sometimes there are voices. and some of the time--be still my heart--i hear kyle.

i've been wanting so much to hear kyle's voice again. i have been heartsick that he left no outgoing greeting on his cell phone, heartsick i did not have one of his last voicemail messages saved.

in the video clips, sometimes ky's hand reaches in the frame pointing to something or picking up something. once, you see the camera pan down to his hand turning his dickey pants pocket inside out, proving to a guy he hasn't any more money than the quarter he's just given the guy. one time you see him capture his own tall shadow on the sidewalk. but as i watch i never see a clear image of kyle.

i do, though, hear bits and snatches of his deep voice. sometimes just a random word. sometimes more. chuckling, laughing, commenting, teasing, semi-interviewing. some things he'd be embarrassed by (or not). some his father would hate (or not). to me--part mother, part sponge--i am thirsty for every utterance.

i'll find a way to imbed a clip here. but when i do, take a breath or two before you listen. it's like having kyle here again, just out of sight.