This page presented in loving memory of Thelma (Tybee) Jacobson, 1925-1980




I look in the mirror,
and start to cry
for I see what she
never lived to see.


I want you, Tybee.
I miss you and need you inside me.
You drive me to be
the best Harry I can
because I know
you always believed in me.
I want you to be proud,
and I know you would forgive
the shameful and stupid things
I have done
to myself and to others
because you love me.

I am so lost without you.
I hold your picture to my chest
and I weep.

My love for mountains and deserts,
music, poetry and spirit,
laughter, delight and fancy,
I learned to love
those things from you.
Whenever I feel joy, or sadness, or irony,
I know those feelings because of you.
I will always be yours.
I wish that you could always be with me.

Like as not, I suppose I
will be with you fairly soon.


My mother died when I was eleven;
I'll turn thirty this year.
I miss her like crazy tonight.
And I realize that every woman
I've loved since then, and every
woman I shall ever love,
will fill only part of the void
that is left in my heart right now.

It's not fair, I cried to myself tonight.
I had so much to show you.
Look at me now, I begged.
See how I need you, and also
see how far I've come on my own.

You showed me mesas, sunsets,
adobe and turquoise, canyons
and majestic waterfalls, glistening
rainforests, alligators and jackalopes.
I live now amongst concrete,
glass and silica -- but I still
think of you when I see
glaciers, bears, redwoods and caves.
Thank you.
You are mystery, love and magic.
You are my life.
You gave me the world.



Harry Oesterreicher 3/13/98 - Seattle, Washington

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