The whole world started ripping apart from skies and ground,
shaking those Okies into a frantic state.
Run into the path of tornados,
sink into the cracked ground,
nothing is there to save you.
The politicians and tigers are waiting to eat you.
Written 11 November 2011 in Anchorage, Alaska.
Brian Fuchs, “Earthquake Season” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)
for JoBeth
You bounced in wearing sweaters
with Christmas faces or purple things,
matchmaking for us like we belonged
to your own family, and we did.
We’d talk too long about
New Jersey, your husband,
H.R. Geiger’s suggestive images,
“where have you been all my life?”
you said, splitting my side,
sunshine spilling from the wound
lightening a dismal day.
Rosemary Clooney music played
overhead and we told the new hires
about your metal leg, pretended
to stick magnets to it.
We’d pepper your introduction
with tales of your uncle, John Gotti.
That took on a life of its own
after you left; it became true,
part of our mythology, our genesis. We felt your absence,
didn’t talk about cancer or dolls,
and we danced and drank with
Spider-man’s worn out ambassador,
your brother who couldn’t tell you
about his cancer, his fear.
He sat with you, dying with you
propping your up and shining
a spotlight on your face.
We could see on his face how much
he wished to carry your burden.
We’ve listened for your melodic voice,
laughed and smiled,
looked for an oversaturated rum cake,
but by then you were gone.
Written 22 August 2008 in Anchorage, Alaska & 8 September 2019 in Payne County, Oklahoma.
Brian Fuchs, “Mambo Italiano” from Okie Dokie (Scissortail Press, 2019)
This is how this poem appears in the book Okie Dokie. I’m considering rewriting it, or maybe I’ll just write something new to express these thoughts. We’ll see.
In secret places I’ve longed to revisit,
he adds new people to his life and the closeness we never had fades in the sad recesses of time. I’ve been forgotten and replaced.
Hidden away in shadowy restaurants, places I was shown the ways I wanted to be loved, new faces grace tables with conversations that are familiar, the responses changing — improving.
I’ve regretted not finding him again and not loving him enough (not loving him in ways I wanted to and could have).
It is a life I gave up to be someone I grew to hate; a life never offered, but hovering over our friendship.
We traveled to the West, to passions we didn’t share, for a weekend that would change who we had been.
I remember how I longed for something more, not only from him, but from me and how I felt the presence of our fear in the room, breathing deeply and making us sad.
I wish he were here, forgiving me, showing me that love still exists for me in his heart. I want him to kiss me, but still afraid, I’d wish it were a hug.
There are times of mistakes, times that cannot be summoned to this present with all the power of my heart… times that I miss.
But scattering the bones of lives I wanted to live across infinity makes the present sad. I need to hold on and keep them close, reminders of motives that make me who I am.
Written 19 May 2008 in Anchorage, Alaska.
Brian Fuchs, “Oil Man” from Okie Dokie (Scissortail Press, 2019)
I am on my way home for a visit. I leave tonight and will be in Oklahoma Monday. I have some stuff to do in Dallas over the weekend. Please, call me if you want to do something. I would love to see everyone I can. I can run to Tulsa anytime. If you don’t have my number, you can leave me a comment and I will contact you as soon as I can.
Hugs to all!
Photo of my cast during first grade (due to having Legg-Calvé-Perthes)
“No man needs a vacation so much as the person who has just had one.”
–Elbert Hubbard
Vacation. It is going pretty well. I have managed to irritate, aggravate, or annoy more people in less time than my previous visit. It feels like an accomplishment. It shouldn’t. I really didn’t mean to be the source of any problems. I’ve enjoyed seeing everyone. However, being stuck at my parents’ finally got to me. It all started when I arrived on Tuesday.
I left Anchorage after a very long day Monday. I had worked at Borders from 7-3:30 and at Michaels from 5-10. The flight was to leave at 12:30, but of course I was at the airport by 10:45. It was far too early, but I didn’t want to fall asleep until I was on the plane. And we had a full flight, of course. I slept the entire way to Seattle. The layover was too short to sleep there. I slept on the way to Denver. I was fairly awake, but cranky in Denver. I ate nachos, contemplated changing, and generally didn’t want to be there. I feared that I would not be able to sleep on the way from Denver to Tulsa, but luckily, I dozed off well, even though I was sitting between two people.
When I arrived, it was nice to have Brad waiting for me at the airport. We gathered my bags and made a couple stops. I wanted to go by Barnes & Noble and Hot Topic (my barbell in my tongue was stripped). After that, I was really sleepy and slept on the hour trip to Stillwater. It was nice to hang out with Brad. We got in, went to pick up Conner (my nephew), and came back to my parents’ house. It was pretty late and there wasn’t much left to do. So, I slept. And well.
Wednesday & Thursday were both spent stuck at my parents’ house. I liked the people there: Dad, Conner, & Jason, but I was feeling rather trapped. I just wanted to be able to drive away for a little while, but I couldn’t. Mom’s brakes had gone out, so her car was not drivable. I spent most of Friday sleeping. My reunion registration was at 5 and mom arrived in time for me to borrow my grandpa’s car (which she had been driving all week) and get in to register. My brother arrived just as I did, which was an odd coincidence. We talked to Andrea for a bit and then drove around until we needed to be at Mexico Joe’s at 8 for the reunion. First, we stopped at Wal-Mart to get me a shirt.
My class reunion was weird — good weird. I was a bit of a loner in school. I knew everyone and I am sure they all knew me, but I wasn’t exactly friends with them. I have always felt connected to these people though. I know that I will be the one who attends the reunions everytime and grows to be more fond of these people as the years go by. And why didn’t I take the time to get to know them back then? Of course, the same ones who annoyed me in high school annoyed me at the reunion. And everyone had kids… or so it seemed. Overall, it was a good experience. I talked to only a few people, but really felt like I was part of a group… one I couldn’t get kicked out of, even if they didn’t really care for me. That was oddly comforting. What made the whole thing even better is having family there. Since Brent & I were in the same class — and therefore graduated together — he and Laurisa were there for me to hang out with. They’ve always been the types that have a lot more casual friends, whereas I always had a few very close friends. Speaking of, Travis was there. Unfortunately, a family emergency kept him from attending the family fun day on Saturday.
The family fun day was interesting. I initially didn’t want to go, but Brent insisted. It was fun to see all the kids. And it was fun to spend time with my neices, KC & Avery. They are a lot of fun to be around. What I will always remember is that I was poorly dressed, due to the mud at my parents’ house. Ick.
Sadly, we’ve already lost 4 classmates and 2 teachers. I don’t know the details of all of the deaths, but it really made me stop and think. 4 out of 402 is really quite a lot. I only really knew 1 of the students and 1 of the teachers.
Thank you David & Heather for letting me complain to you.
Updates: updated brian’s body: an exploration; updated a few links; removed a few images from Threadless Shirts page.
Activities: hung out with Mom & Dad; drove to Brent & Laurisa’s with Annie
Food: potato wedges & ketchup, split pea soup, toast with olive oil spread, potato salad, tortilla chips, Krispy Kreme mini crullers, 3+ Diet Cokes, 3 bottles of white and/or green tea. (it sounds like a lot, but I had just a little of all of this stuff)Continue Reading
It was March 10, 2002 — a Sunday morning. I was at work, shelving a cart in the corner of the store where the history, biography, & social sciences sections were kept. I had paused for a moment to read the inside flap on the book. I had taken entirely too much time looking decided to place it on hold for myself so I could look at it later. I took it to the front and placed it on the employee hold shelf. Bettina announced that I had a phone call. I knew it would be my parents and it irritated me that they could never figure out to not call me before we open.
When I answered the phone, it was my dad. There were no pleasantries; he simply said I needed to leave work and drive to Stillwater immediately. Not really catching on to the tone, I informed him that I couldn’t leave work, but wanted to know what was going on. “Mimi has been taken to the hospital and is probably not going to make it.” That still breaks my heart. My brain went numb and my eyes blurry. I said I would leave and be there as soon as possible. As soon as I hung up, I went back to the office, told Bettina I needed to go, and fell apart. She comforted me, telling me not to worry about work and instructing me to do what I needed to do. I left work, went home to let Justin (who was my roommate at the time) know where I’d be, and rushed to Stillwater. On the way, my cousin Becky called to make sure I knew what was going on.
I arrived in Stillwater about an hour and a half after the initial phone call. As I walked in, I was met by my mom, who was bawling. The entire tone of the house was energetic and sad — each family member’s arrival starting the tears over again.
“Mimi” is my mom’s mom, Bonita Christine “Chris” Tucker. She was the matriarch of our family; the force that connected us all and kept us together. She orchestrated every event that brought us together, reminded us to connect with one another, and nagged us all mercilessly. Mimi was an extremely confident woman who knew who she was. She was totally devoted to her husband, her God, & the other members of her church. She was generous with her money and her time, but was never afraid to tell you her opinion on what you were doing. Evidently, there wasn’t enough money to be made as a writer to justify her supporting it. I cherished talking to her. I would sit with her and talk about people for hours… she knew absolutely everything going on in Stillwater. But it never seemed like gossip. Mimi was a very good-hearted person.
By the time I arrived in Stillwater, she had passed away. After the watery greetings from my mom and aunt, I settled in with my brothers and cousin — those I always hang out with when everyone is together. Star, my grandparents’ cat, was the hero of this story. Even though he was unable to save her, he did what he could. Apparently, he went to my grandpa (Papa), woke him up, and led him to where Mimi had fallen. We suspect either a massive heart attack, stroke, or aneurysm, as her arms were still by her side and she hadn’t tried to stop her fall.
Bonita
on viewing my Mimi’s bodyShe looks perfect,
her familiar red dress matched
beautifully with the soft pink lining,
the red heart draped around her neck.
As if she’d just come in
from church for a nap —
a lazy Sunday afternoon,
shy lay resting — calm, peaceful.
Tears stream down my grandpa’s
too often stoic face.
His wife — the woman he
devoted his entire life to —
his best friend.
“She really is a beautiful lady.”Brian Fuchs 3.12.2002
That week was surreal. I still don’t remember much of it. Of course, it culminated in a beautiful funeral. I had gone back home to Tulsa to get some clothes and for the funeral I chose the shirt she had just given me for Christmas. The shirt was a gold knit with a collar. I wore khaki pants. I wouldn’t have felt right in dark colors and I really wanted to celebrate life. The funeral was made that much more difficult when I discovered that my cousins’ nanny was sitting with them and I couldn’t sit with my immediate family because of it. Furthermore, I ended up next to my mom’s friend, who had apparently not figured out that I was an adult and kept talking to me as if I were a child.
When the funeral was over, my two best friends came up to me and asked if I was okay. I had really been fine all week, only crying on Sunday morning. I shook my head no and buried myself in their arms and cried. I felt like the world had just ended. A few days later, I left on a trip with them, where I was able to sort through things slowly throughout the next week. Which isn’t to say I felt any better about it all.
untitled (‘100 days’)
It’s been one hundred days
and if feels like it all happened
just this morning.
I’m starting to realize she’s gone —
finally missing her and ultimately
knowing I can never see her again.I hate that morning —
when Mimi died.
Loneliness overtook me and
pain was invited in.
All I needed was a hug
from Bettina, JD, Travis, Becky,
Mom — but they weren’t there.
I’m cold inside and sad.
I miss her.Brian Fuchs 6.18.2002
It took a long time to accept that Mimi was gone. I imagine I will have that hole in my heart for the rest of my life. I haven’t even been able to return to her house for any length of time and feel comfortable. That always makes me feel guilty because I do want to visit Papa, who is remarried, but there is too much history in that place. But it is also important to remember that I got to know Mimi. I had the amazing opportunity to be a member of a family with her at the head.
That is when I first realized my life had become about death. It had only been 447 days since my grandma Fuchs (“G”) had passed away. Since then, I have lost 2 friends and 2 great-grandmothers. I am ready to have my life defined by something else; be defined by love or friendship or family. I have felt rather selfish about these deaths over these past 6 years. They are important to me, but moving on is much more important.
21 March 2007Continue Reading
Life can really slap you in the face sometimes. I got a gentle reminder that I am not in control on Monday. My brother called me at work; I knew something was wrong, since he had never called me at work before. “Don’t freak out,” he said, “but Dad had another heart attack. He is fine; they flew him to Mercy Hospital in [Oklahoma] City.”
Don’t freak out? Is it ever possible to not freak out when you are told not to freak out? Of course, the first thing I thought of is that I hope Mom doesn’t reach for a bottle. That just wouldn’t help anything, but knew that it was a strong possibility. Brent gave me all the information he had and told me that he would keep me posted. I was pretty much useless the rest of the day at work.
When I got home, I called Brent. Everything seemed to have gone smoothly. The heart attack started around 1:00 p.m. & by 3:45 p.m. they had finished putting in a stent at a hospital 60 miles away. My dad had wanted to play a joke on my mom at the hospital. He wanted the nurse to get him a toe tag and pull the sheet up over his head for her arrival. She would not have been amused, so I am thankful that the nurse refused. I do, however, find it funny myself.
I finally talked to him that evening. He sounded fine & had plenty of energy. What scares me is that it was a massive attack and his doctor said he was lucky to have gone to the hospital when he did; he might not have survived otherwise. I am not ready at all for something like that to happen. Not only can I not imagine losing one of my parents, but mine are both great friends and people I would want to know even if I wasn’t related to them. They are good people, wonderfully naïve about the indecencies in the world. Wholesome.
It has really made me think though. I guess this is a typical reaction — the assessment of the family bond and the closeness to those who just went through whatever ordeal. “Why?” has never been important to me. I really don’t care “why” events occur. My dad’s heart attack is no exception to that. It really doesn’t matter, what matters is “how do we keep it from happening again?” The doctor informed him, as doctors will do, that he needs to quit smoking. But in this case, he has a point… a strong one. The heart attack, in all of its ferocity, was brought on almost entirely because of smoking. Dad spends long hours working outside and is in excellent health in many respects. However, he does tend to cough a lot (more and more recently, I’ve noticed). I guess it is time to stop, if he can. And I hope sincerely that he can. He is too important to too many people.
Any blessings from this? Maybe. My brothers both have a tendancy to drop their kids off with my parents. I understand this. They have to make ends meet and you do what you can to struggle through with a young family. I get it. But Mom & Dad have both been pretty exhausted with it all lately. They’ve needed a break. Mom’s back needs some time & Dad just needs some time off for his mental health. Now, it seems they will get a little break. It is unfortunate that it had to happen in this way though.
And as if that wasn’t enough, Bradley is facing the end of his marriage. It has been coming for some time. When they first got married, Jess was great. I still think she is a good person and fun to be around. But she and Brad, who enjoyed a weirdly romantic & tumultuous relationship, have drifted apart rather calmly.
This would all be much ado about nothing if it wasn’t for the two kids. Brad & Jess have two boys, who are being used, as happens so often, to cause Brad more pain. He is repetedly denied seeing his boys by Jess, who has decided to move in with her mother, who is in the midst of mourning her husband, and who until very recently had nothing to do with the kids. Even now, her version of watching them is to take them to the neighbor’s house and have her watch them.
It angers me.
Bradley has a strong case for custody of those two boys, but I am afraid he will never try to make it, as he clings to hope that the marriage will survive. I just wish there was a better solution to the entire situation… that I would have confidence that I will know my nephews as they grow up. I am not so sure.
The boat has been rocked. We are in a cosmic reality show and all the viewers are waiting to see what we will do next. It is a great cliffhanger to the end of this season, but the choices we make in the near future could dictate entire decades of our lives.Continue Reading