Fragile (Ralston Bowles)

Today was unbelievably difficult, as an e-mail regarding J's death went out to our client list - many people responded immediately, obviously with shock and disbelief, not having a clue his health issues were life-threatening. The phones were respectfully quiet, with only a few emergency problems requiring attention - fielding those calls brought it all home... again... but in a good way, with sweet stories shared of J's calm and patient manner, talking them off a tech support ledge.

I've begun to segue from a numb haze to sharp reality, surrounded by so many daily reminders - a friend reminded me that we Leos tend to form immediate and close attachments, which is of course a good thing, even when it brings such intense pain. In fact, her blog today had the most perfect quote, which I've borrowed to use below - thanks, M, for the support and empathy...

For four years (from January 2001 to December 2004), I hosted a house concert series in which singer-songwriters would perform, about once a month, in my living room to an appreciative audience of 30 or so - 100% of the donations went directly to the artist as well as whatever CDs/merchandise they sold, and it was a lovely way to help supplement their touring schedule and treat fans to an up-close-and-personal musical experience. Jonathan Byrd, who I wrote about a few posts ago, performed in August 2004 - as was often the case, I offered home hospitality (meals and a stay in our guest bedroom) between gigs. In a late-night jacuzzi session after the house concert, I shared my father story with him - I always asked the musicians to write something in a blank book I had (to preserve the memories)... and I found the following poem recorded there after he left...

SONG: Fragile by Ralston Bowles

BOOK: The Soul's Book of Answers by Carol Bolt

POEM: by Jonathan Byrd

Last night the moon was almost full
And you loved it for its almost-fullness
Laughing at her fertile belly and cooing
Like a friend at her baby shower

Last night your Jacuzzi was almost hot
And we hissed into its almost-hotness
The warm womb of your father's memory -
the inheritance of a failed relationship

You wanted to show me what it was like
to be in the tub when the moon was full
And it really wasn't - but that is you;
Turning loss into healing,
Anticipating the greatness of what could be
with such intensity that you create it.

QUOTE: "Love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." ~ C.S. Lewis