Sometimes one must tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth… so help me God, even though its terrifying. The world can read my thoughts for posterity in cyberspace, I’m going to embarrass myself, but here it is.
I have loved Daniel Henderson for years. Four in fact. To admit that en publique is unsettling because I have whined and moaned, cried and called him every name in the book that is a thesaurus entry for scoundrel or scamp. People that have known us have witnessed or heard about some doozy events. I have deleted his name from my phone fifteen times, yet he’s the only name I would tattoo on my skin. He was the reason I ran away to Europe, India and Africa. He’s the reason I am back in Belgium. I have spent more time running away from Dan than I have running to him. I have blamed him for almost everything, and given him credit for little.
But here is what goes unsaid. This man for all his flaws and failures has been important to me in ways that only God can explain. In fact, he has single-handedly brought me closer to God. He has made me stronger, smarter, braver. He has taught me what love is and what love is not. He has forced me to forgive before it was too late. He has shown me the perfection of imperfection.
If Dan wasn’t in my life, I would probably have a Ph.D. — but I wouldn’t have passion, clarity, a keen sense of self. I’d be drifting. Hoping someone would love me, instead of loving myself first. He has given me more money than my entire family combined, he has criticized me mercilessly, he has done stupid, stupid things, some of it unprintable, other unbelievable.
Yet, there is no one more committed to my success.
Dan, I have not wanted to attract attention to your presence in my life, and it made it seem you were unimportant. Often there were thinly-veiled jabs, musings written out of loss or regret or anger; the subtext was a deep dissatisfaction for not having you near.
The fact is no matter where you are on the planet, if I see you tomorrow or never again, you are practically imprinted on my DNA. So much of who I am now has to do with you, our time together, whether mutual failure or success. You are the universe wrapped into one. No one makes me feel more threatened, more expendable, yet safer and needed than you.
I still have the first rocks you collected for me in west Texas, the beach, a large specimen from the gorgeous M. mountains which now sits on the counter in the café, many large remnants from our trips to the holy quarries of Michelangelo, your somewhat-purloined handset, agate hunting (me three, you fifty)…I wasn’t just with you when you rewrote some major patent claims but the day you decided to be a sculptor… You were with me when we took the photo of the stunning Nike of Samothrace which unfurls across this very page. You were the cause of the loss of my prized ruby quartz somewhere on your driveway. Stone figures prominently in our narrative; steady, weighty, often overlooked, grounded and natural. And though I lost that quartz, what you fail to see is that you gave me a rock I wear internally now — eerily beautiful and indestructible.
The gift of our time together, our interaction, rarer than any pink diamond, surprisingly more luminous than the phosphorous objects in the Natural History Museum and more precious than all the jewels in a mile radius from super-swanky Claridge’s (which given the proximity to Westminster you know is quite extensive…). I believe you once showed me around London. Somehow you knew it better than one of its residents…
One of our common bonds is our love-hate of travel, international ethos, which the rock-hunting and faraway locations explain… The best trips were with you next to me in an airplane seat, even if you did poke and tease me during turbulence…For better or for worse, planes will figure prominently in our lives, and I suppose you will run from me and I will run from you ad infinitum until we figure it out. In the meantime, I appreciate how you call me on things such as pretending you don’t exist on my blog. You have been gracious about letting me assume the “better one” role, and as you know, its not always true.
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