When I leave my bedroom, there is a picture on the hallway of Rosemary and Alexandra that I took (Pentacon F camera with 50mm Tessar lens) March 1975, in the Desierto de Altar in Northern Mexico. With Hilary we were driving our blue VW Beetle from Mexico City to what was going to be our new home in Vancouver. The perspective of the mountains behind was odd as we could not tell if the mountains were far away or if they were close and small.
I see in this photograph with their smiles, the future that lay ahead of us. A new adventure we were to have in a new city.
Now I realize that it is all a memory. Rosemary and her smile are gone. Alexandra (we call her Ale, pronounced Aleh) remains.
No matter what I do or where I am in my Kits house it seems that I can experience the presence of Rosemary and her smile. Today I could not shave as the razor was worn out. The razor in question was the last one that was purchased in a set by Rosemary before she died on December 9, 2020. She always had handy for me my shaving cream and razors.
I had to go to Safeway with the razor in my pocket so that I could find the correct one. Rosemary would have known.
Because I studied engineering (failed electricity) at Mexico City College in 1962 I was taught well the calculus. In calculus if you look at an asymptote curve you know that it will reach either the y axis or x axis only at infinity. It gets there little by little. What this means is that while I no longer have razors that Rosemary bought there are plenty of other indications of her existence in this house. While I may have memories of her, there are many tactile ones, too.
