Timeless

     I am who I am today because of Austin. He met me when I was timid, tentative, a bit silly, and terribly unsure of myself. I was a worrier. I used to drive with white knuckles on the wheel and the volume turned down low on the stereo. Whenever I was driving more than 30 minutes from home I'd print out mapquest directions, just in case the GPS lost signal. I'd have a piece of paper with emergency phone numbers written on it, incase the car broke down and my cell phone died. I'd arrive to the bus station an hour before the departure time, just in case. But none of that mattered to him. He saw me for who I could be and we had something beautiful together.

     One of my favorite memories with him is one some of you know from Brother Mac's speech at Austin's service. It was the summer after freshman year, we hadn't seen each other in two months because he was summering in California and I was teaching sailing Back East. But he told me he'd be in New York City for a day in July, with his boy-scout troupe. New York City. I live south of Boston. NYC was definitely more than 30 minutes from my house. But he begged me to come up, he knew I could do it, he hadn't seen me in months. I packed my bag the day before and laid out the pretty blue dress with pink flowers that I'd bought just for this trip. I couldn't get to sleep thinking about how far I had to travel the next day, and all by myself! I almost wimped out the next morning but I opened my phone and saw a text from Austin that was something along the lines of "I know you can do it babe, I love you & can't wait to see you:)". I had to. I had to see him! I could do it. It was 4am. I got in the car, drove an hour and a half into Boston, waited an hour for the bus, rode the bus 4 and a half hours into NYC, was terrified by the size of Grand Central Station, asked a nice portly policeman how to get to Battery Park, got in a cab (driven by a man that must've been a member of the pakistani version of NASCAR), got to Battery Park and got in line to take the Ferry to Ellis Island. A line that wound twice around the ticket building. I stood in line for an hour before I realized I was never getting to Ellis island. He was getting back in one and a half hours. Between late busses, irate cab drivers, New York traffic and issues with the troupe (something involving his boy-scouts setting the sprinklers off in the hotel), we'd have a total of 2 hours together before I had to turn around and take everything but a plane to get back home and then not see him until September. Austin wasn't answering his phone. I was alone in New York City. I was tired. It was hot. I was scared. So there, in the middle of Battery Park, in my pretty blue dress with pink flowers my eyes filled up with tears. And then, as he always seemed to when things seemed hopeless, he called! 

     "The ferry is leaving now, I'm coming! I'll be there soon!!"

     He was coming! I didn't care how tired or hot or scared I was, he was coming! I ran through the park in my dress, all the way to the docks, and there he was! The only human male who can still look stunningly handsome in a boy-scout uniform, leaning over the rail of the ship, smiling that smile, then running down the gangway and scooping me up in a huge hug, spinning me in a circle, kissing me, smiling, laughing, of course I cried a little again from all the nerves and happiness and exhaustion but they were happy tears, it had been months! He laughed at me for crying and being a "silly, pretty girl" (something he called me often), and took my hand and led me through the park. We made our way from there to Central Park and broke away from the group. We walked for a bit, found a huge maple tree, settled under it and just sat, wrapped in each others arms, watching the sunlight sift down through the leaves, setting them all golden-green, listening to the wind rustling through them. We sat there for the whole hour. It was perfect. That day, I traveled for a total of 18 hours. I drove, took cabs, walked, ran, took busses, all by myself. All for the most perfect two hours I could possibly ask for, two hours with Austin, sitting in Central Park, having him smile at me. But it was for even more than that. I could go to New York by myself! I could travel! I could do things! He was always pushing me out of my comfort zone, pushing me to become a better, more self-sufficient person. Even when it meant tough love, he'd push. Remembering how nervous I was that day, and how I collapsed into his arms after nothing but I few bus rides, always makes me laugh. 

     I just got back from sailing the entire Bermuda Triangle. Six weeks at sea. From exploring tiny remote islands on foot, eating mangos out of trees when I was hungry, sailing across oceans and through storms (big storms, I'm talking 20 foot waves and 55 knots of breeze here), and having no one to run to when I was scared. I never thought I could do that. He knew I could. And he knew I'd never realize that unless he pushed me to. I realize now how incredibly difficult that must've been for him, it must've been like pushing a baby bird out of a tree. But he knew I'd fly. He knew the things I could achieve, the person I could become, far before I did. The amount Austin taught me is unmeasurable.

So for the leaves in central park, for the song we sang at the service, for the poem he wrote me, for the metaphorical tree he pushed me out of, and for new reasons I discover daily, here is my leaf for Austin. Something that will be there forever, to remind me of someone who changed me forever.


"Nothing can remove the impressions left by each stroke of the pen,

whether they be found on the page when the light falls just right,

like the mid-summer sun through the lightly swaying branches of trees,

Or in our hearts,

Engraved and untouchable,

Timeless."

A.P.B.



Love & Hope,

Tori