📁 RETURN TO JUST ANOTHER DAY

Dear Kathy,

            It’s just another day on Cleveland Avenue in Ithaca, New York. It’s Sunday, June 4. I wrote you a little while ago saying that nothing had changed on the block since you died, but it’s been long enough now that I feel the difference. I can really hear the silence, now. When the pastor at your funeral described how you occupied our public space, how you lived out in it, how you made it yours and in that way gave the neighbourhood to all of us, I felt inspired (that is a good pastor!) to go out and Do the Thing, for you firstly but also for everyone. I thought that meant texting people a lot, and making meals, and being friendly. What I didn’t know then, though, was how complex it was, and how frightening: what you did was a deep and layered labor of the spirit. I think this is what the Reverend meant when he said that you would tell people their business—that you were willing to cross someone. Being together out in the street isn’t just smiles and handshakes. You got into it, over and over. Maybe this was the cause of some of the stress I saw you carry.  But distance is numbing and you did not want to be numb; besides, if we let the distance in we’ll lose the block to the landlords and the wrong kind of white people.

            The other thing that happened on the Ave in the last few months, the new thing, is that we got added to the flood zone, and everyone will have to buy insurance. We’re going to be able to afford it but I don’t know about other folks on the block. We really seriously thought about moving—if we wait, and the flood comes, and everyone leaves and the house price crashes, then it’ll be a lot harder to leave. So maybe we should go now? But then, no. It’s our home. We’ll do our best; we’ll only leave when they make us. When the flood comes, when we have to rise up above it, we will do it together or fail, and if we make it you’ll be there rising up too.

            The block party is next week and I’m going to make lasagna and get into it. Your memory is good for my heart. I’ll write soon. Rest easy, neighbour.

                                                                        Love,

                                                                        Nick

How to cite: Admussen, Nick. “Just Another Day: Nick Admusssen.” Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, 4 Jun. 2023, chajournal.blog/2023/06/04/nick-another-day.

Nick Admussen is an associate professor of Chinese literature at Cornell University, the author of Recite and Refuse: Contemporary Chinese Prose Poetry, the translator of poet Ya Shi’s Floral Mutter, and the author of Stand Back, Don’t Fear the Change, a collection of parables from the New Michigan Press. Visit his website for more information. [Nick Admussen & ChaJournal.] [All contributions by Nick Admussen.]