First, I must mention that my slave asked me to not mention a certain something from this weekend, and she reads my blog, so naturally I am starting off by hinting that I might mention it, just to torture her. Its the WEM in me.
This weekend is an odd one. In most respects its normal, but a member of the community who has been battling cancer is not expected to make it much longer. Maybe a day or two more. The reality of that life, and the ones around it are so different from that of my slave and I. We share our worlds, but we do not live in other peoples worlds.
To cap off this weekend, I took Izrina out on the motorcycle, which is on road-off road. We stopped at a subway, picked up a sandwich and drinks, and headed back onto a trail. I had never gone this way before, so out of caution, when we came to gullies and such, I had her get off before I gunned the bike through or over an obstacle. On the way back, knowing already what I was facing, there was much less of that. Our objective was to reach a park tower, set on the edge of a vast swamp, a sea of greenery growing up around channels of fresh water running through, and every kind of wild life you might expect in such a rural setting.
As strange as this may sound, I am happy for Lenny, the Master battling cancer, because I know that as much as he is loved here, the love that awaits him is so much greater. I am equally sorry for his slave, who he will leave behind. Even if she believes that he is in a better place, there will be a void where his voice used to be, and his touch, and his command. It is OK, to be sorry for ourselves when someone passes to the next life. We who are left behind must learn to live without the comfort of those simple things we have come to cherish.
The trails were marked blue and green and by sticking to the blue, we were able to find the tower. Its old, and rotted in some places, while in other places, new wood reinforcement is quite obvious. It sits at the top of large bank, rising from a sandy opening in the channels, and breaks out of the trees that ring the miles and miles of habitat. We climbed to the top, and there among the upper branches of nearby trees, the view is quite beautiful. To my surprise, we were not alone.
A number of leather family members have posted their love in an outpouring on Fetlife. I feel like I should be doing something. I don’t want to sit by a man’s bed, waiting for his death, but neither do I want to do nothing. I joined others in commenting on Fetlife, but it seems so hollow. I am sure he has things he still wants to do here, in this life, with his slave. Its hard sometimes to understand why we can’t have more time in this life.
A mother and her daughter had kayaked in to the beach from the channels, something I too enjoy. They were standing on the sand just below, and were fishing in this secluded spot. Izrina perched up on a railing and began to unpack her sandwich to eat. I asked her to move from the center of the board, since I didn’t trust it. I was worried for my property’s safety. The sandwich was gone is short order and a pair of cookies was next. I offered mine to the mother and daughter but they assured me they had snacks.
I gave Lenny’s slave my cell phone number and urged her to call me, or write me if there was anything she needed to say. I know that she will shortly have a burden that can be lightened only by working through it. Sometimes just having someone to listen, or hold you and say nothing, is all you need.
We finished our trip into the woods, and drove home, my slave hugging me fiercely, as if she hoped the ride might never end. Somewhere tonight there is another slave with the same need.