Dark Skies (Danny Schmidt)

"when the stars did guide us" by Ezra Berger, original oil on canvas*

Yesterday (August 26) was eleven months since Eric's death.  Crazy.  September will find me one big fat f*cking mess; it will almost be a relief to hit the one-year mark, the countdown to which has been excruciatingly painful, yet educational (if that makes a bit of sense).

Details soon of a potluck Breakfast Club get-together on a Sunday morning in early- to mid-October, in Ashley W. Hale Park, Pembroke Pines (our former neighborhood).  We are having a tree planted (and a plaque made) in E's memory, and would love to gather whatever friends and family are able to attend... 🌳

*As soon as I saw Ezra's painting posted online, I could envision it in my house.  I am a Leo (in my mind the one Dar Williams met in Mercy of the Fallen - ha!)  Crazy synchronicity... or meant-to-be?:

first verse: 

"I had asked you to steer me

To one cloud scattered night

I got lost and in my travels

I met Leo the Lion

last verse:

"There's the weak and the strong

And the many stars that guide us

We have some of them inside us"

Yes, I bought this stunning work of art... 🌃🦁

SONG:  Dark Skies by Danny Schmidt

BOOK:  Joy Rides through the Tunnel of Grief: A Memoir by Jessica Hendry Nelson (a birthday present from my friend Judi... 💖)

POEM:  changed by Ullie Kaye

yes I have changed. you may not recognize me anymore. the new me does not pretend to be anything other than who I really am. you may not recognize the kind of strength that courses through my veins. it is rich with suffering. and believing. and overcoming. I no longer crave the things that I thought made me beautiful. but rather, i am delicious now in spirit. in choosing tenderness. and deliberate breaths. and a longing to be to others what I always wished them to be to me. I no longer have eyes that search for approval. but my vision is on whatever brings grace and healing and growth. I am full of love. and empty of being consumed by things that really do not matter. don't get me wrong. I am still filled with a thousand, broken pieces - I've just rearranged them all.

QUOTE:  "We are travelers on a cosmic journey; stardust swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to Love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity." ~ Paulo Coelho

Meet on the Ledge (Richard Thompson)

Whew!  I seem to be totally off my game/schedule/agenda.  What had been an every Tuesday and Friday posting plan has morphed into Whatever.  It's obviously okay (First World Problems, right?) but I always do better with structure... so here's an attempt to get back on track, beginning with updates of the South Florida Folk and Acoustic Music Festival (what a mouthful!) as well as the road trip to Key West to see Dar Williams (both absolutely amazing, as you can well imagine!).

2/2-4/24 - SFFAMF (copied-and-pasted from Facebook):

The South Florida Folk and Acoustic Music Festival 2024. What a weekend (major understatement). Highlights, knowing I'm bound to inadvertently leave someone/something out (sorry in advance):

One-on-one special time with friends pre- as well as post-fest. Amy Carol Webb Friday night. Herding cats for a Friends of Pam photo. Staffing an informational table with Claire for The Caring Community (so many teas, so little time!), right next to Cynthia's Flurban Paradise freeze-dried cookies and fruit, fire cider, energy balls. So Many Hugs! Jennings & Keller. Wearing the necklace Melanie gave me at last year's festival (which meant she was here in spirit *this* year). Honored to be a songwriter competition judge; so many great songs that it was truly challenging to narrow it down to a top three. Multiple meals from The Garden Diva; those pizza empanadas were scrumptious. The reunion continues, until I end up with bar voice. Dragonfly earrings from SusanP. Brian's song circles, complete with my Circle of Friends "campfire".

Returning Sunday a.m., barely able to speak above a croak. More Hugs! Songwriter winners in-the-round (Sarah McCulloch, Jane Fallon, Lynn Biddick); hearing their additional songs validated our choices even more. New discoveries as well as long-time favorites. Friction Farm! Sharing butterfly pea flower tea at our TCC table. Never managed to make it over for a chair massage... 😢

Boundless thanks and love to Bill, Lisa, Laurie, Elyse, Peter, Grace, Bruce, and all the volunteers who made this festival happen. And gratitude that, when it started pouring down rain early-afternoon yesterday, we were under cover... 💖

2/6-7/24 - DAR IN KEY WEST (copied-and-pasted from Facebook):  

When last we left our SheRa, she was packing snacks and heading out the door to pick up Nancy to head to Key West for a concert.  If you're all about the 45-words-or-less version, you can stop here.  Otherwise, keep reading... 🤣

Driving down the Overseas Highway, you soon realize there is a huge differential between miles and minutes; time goes very slowly in the Keys, basically one way in and one way out, a solo lane in each direction, with two lanes appearing every once in a while to allow for a few minutes of passing.  It.  Just.  Is.  You are forced to be peaceful and relaxed, until you become so, due to the stunning views both east and west the further south you go.  Water as far as the eye can see, varied striations of cobalt/turquoise/sky blue, sometimes choppy, sometimes smooth, sporting silver tips when the sun is shining just right.

The Dar Williams show at the Studios of Key West started at 7 p.m. and we arrived at the very cool Ibis Bay Resort (with a coral rock wall *in* our room!) about 5:15, and knew we wanted to eat dinner near the venue beforehand.  Nance and I quickly got ready and, convinced by the front desk that traffic is horrible and parking is limited, we called a cab, which arrived immediately.  One of Nancy's co-workers used to live in Key West and, when Nancy asked for her recommendations for vegan-vegetarian food, she recommended The Cafe.  Yes, The Cafe!  It was a superb menu, and we split the spinach gyoza dumplings and the stuffed butternut squash, both amazingly delish.  I wanted a piece of vegan key lime pie too, but we were cutting it close.  Made it to the show with 5 minutes to spare, ended up on the second row... 💥

Dar continues to amaze me!  Having heard her dozens of times, she *never* tells the same story twice (maybe a kernel of thought interjects but, mostly, nope.  All new, out of her quirky-yet-brilliant brain).  Her voice was perfect, as was the setlist, a handful of songs from her newest CD, many long-time favorites, and even an as-yet-unrecorded song (Hummingbird Highway - beautiful!).  I thank-her-very-sweetly for dedicating Over the Rainbow to me, the Pete Seeger version where, instead of "why oh why can't I?" he substitutes "why can't you and I?", always looking for the inclusivity angle... 💗

Dar toggled between two encores and, after we all begged, she did them both (When I Was a Boy and Iowa), the second of which Nance and I whipped out our phones to access the flashlight app (Dar:  "oh, fireflies!); the tradition got its start at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, and a few others in the room joined us.  I never get tired of singing/yelling out the "And I'd do it again!" lyric, and Dar actually got quiet for those of us who knew it was coming... 🥰

Dar came out into the lobby after the show, so we could all hug, chat, and get this fab photo (thanks to Fred, the sound guy!).  The fourth is Patty Romanoff, Dar's manager/tour companion who I've also known a very long time.

Nancy and I may have gone back to the room to eat sweet-and-spicy popcorn and drink sparkling wine.  We definitely enjoyed the free continental breakfast the next morning, before heading south on the island to a public beach with a pier where some of Eric's ashes may have been spread.  We may have also stopped at a Mexican restaurant halfway home because I was craving refried beans.

No doubt Nance (Road Buddy Extraordinaire) and I shared another adventure "that couldn't be beat", just like old times (Lucy and Ethel?  Thelma and Louise?), arriving home about 5 p.m., 36 hours of non-stop conversation of the hilarious as well as heartfelt variety, shenanigans, and soul-refilling music.  There is a hot bath and an early bedtime in my future... 🕉

P.S.  credit to Dar for my song title... 🤗

SONG:  Meet on the Ledge by Richard Thompson

BOOK:  The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief by Jan Richardson

POEM:  Don’t Hesitate by Mary Oliver

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,

don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty

of lives and whole towns destroyed or about

to be. We are not wise, and not very often

kind. And much can never be redeemed.

Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this

is its way of fighting back, that sometimes

something happens better than all the riches

or power in the world. It could be anything,

but very likely you notice it in the instant

when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the

case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid

of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

Blessing for the Brokenhearted by Jan Richardson

"There is no remedy for love but to love more."

—Henry David Thoreau

Let us agree

for now

that we will not say

the breaking

makes us stronger

or that it is better

to have this pain

than to have done

without this love.

Let us promise

we will not

tell ourselves

time will heal

the wound,

when every day

our waking

opens it anew.

Perhaps for now

it can be enough

to simply marvel

at the mystery

of how a heart

so broken

can go on beating,

as if it were made

for precisely this—

as if it knows

the only cure for love

is more of it,

as if it sees

the heart’s sole remedy

for breaking

is to love still,

as if it trusts

that its own

persistent pulse

is the rhythm

of a blessing

we cannot

begin to fathom

but will save us

nonetheless.

QUOTE(S):  “What is the meaning of life? That was all — a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one." ~ Virginia Woolf

“Be yourself. Try to matter. Be a good friend. Love freely, even if you are likely--almost guaranteed--to be hurt, betrayed. Do what you were created to do. You'll know what this is, because it is what you keep creeping up to, peering at, dreaming of. Do it…” ~ Tennessee Williams 

“Life exists only at this very moment, and in this moment it is infinite and eternal, for the present moment is infinitely small; before we can measure it, it has gone, and yet it exists forever.” ~ Alan Watts

February (Dar Williams)

"They say that February is the shortest month, but you know they could be wrong.

However more abbreviated than its cousins it may look, February feels longer than any of them. It is the meanest moon of winter, all the more cruel because it will masquerade as spring, occasionally for hours at a time, only to rip off its mask with a sadistic laugh and spit icicles into every gullible face, behavior that grows quickly old.

February is pitiless, and it's boring. That parade of red numerals on its page adds up to zero: birthdays of politicians, a holiday reserved for rodents, what kind of celebrations are those? The only bubble in the flat champagne of February is Valentine's Day. It was no accident that our ancestors pinned Valentine's day on February's shirt: he or she lucky enough to have a lover in frigid, antsy February has cause for celebration, indeed.

Except to the extent that it "tints the buds and swells the leaves within" February is as useless as the extra r in its name. It behaves like an obstacle, a wedge of slush and mud and ennui holding both progress and contentment at bay.

If February is the color of lard on rye, its aroma is that of wet wool trousers. As for sound, it is an abstract melody played on a squeaky violin, the petty whine of a shrew with cabin fever. O February, you may be little but you're not small! Were you twice your tiresome length, few of us would survive to greet the merry month of May." ~ Tom Robbins, from Jitterbug Perfume

"Glimmers" by Rachel Grant Art

Or, as Dar Williams sings:  "February was so long that it lasted into March..."  Forgive me, friends, for I have erred.  It has been 2 1/2 weeks since my last blog post.  Any Catholics in the house?... 🤷

I have been verbalizing the following, and I am now officially putting it in writing:  For the months of October/November/December, I was in self-imposed hibernation, cocooning, roly-poly mode... which I very much needed as well as appreciated. Then... BAM... January and February.  Yikes!  Not to plead The Larabar (not Twinkie!) Defense, but... here was my overwhelming/non-stop schedule:

Saturday, 1/27:  Hope Garden 9-11 a.m.

Sunday, 1/28:  The Caring Community Volunteer Appreciation Day 1-4 p.m., gathering at Nancy's (to celebrate Judi's visit) 3-6 p.m.

Monday, 1/29:  bereavement group 12:30-2 p.m.

Wednesday 1/31:  lunch with Nancy, Judi, Suzanne 11 a.m.-2 p.m., Colin's soccer game 6-7 p.m.

Thursday, 2/1:  Hope Garden 9-11 a.m., pre-fest dinner (group of 10), spend the night at Sarah's, drive Colin to school the next morning (Sarah had an early workshop to attend)

Friday through Sunday, 2/2-2/4:  South Florida Folk Festival

Monday, 2/5:  10 a.m. therapy, 12:30-2 p.m. bereavement group, 2:30 late-lunch/early dinner with Brian

Tuesday, 2/6:  leave about noon to see Dar Williams in Key West (arrive about 4 p.m., concert at 7 p.m., spend the night, head back home about 2 p.m. (hopefully after walking on the beach with Dar!), home about 6 p.m.

Wednesday, 2/7:  Long-overdue Recovery Day, maybe?

Thursday, 2/8:  lunch with RobbyG, True North Project board meeting 7-9 p.m.

Friday, 2/9: cookie decorating with Kerrie and Cynthia 3-5 p.m., post-fest dinner with Jay, Jimmy, Nancy, Dave, etc.

Saturday, 2/10:  Hope Garden 9-11, more cookie decorating with Kerrie and Cynthia 1-3 p.m.

Sunday, 2/11:  breakfast with John and Andrew (two of Eric's friends and their girlfriends), Chico, Sarah and Colin, end-of-season picnic for Colin's soccer team 2-4 p.m.

Stop the world, I want to get off... 😱 😱 😱

And I did.  Whew!  Not much Pause happening in that chaotic-yet-joyful time period... but that used to be my life, and I don't want to do that anymore.  Backing up a bit... Pacing myself (another P-word; thanks, Melanie!)... boundaries and reprioritizing.  Ah.  Yes.  Inhale/Exhale... 찲 😌ॐ

P.S.  I grew up in the Southeast, so I never understood the crocus as metaphor until someone explained this song to me.  Big fat f*cking epiphany.  Dar is brilliant (but we already knew that!)

P.P.S.  More detailed posts about the festival as well as the Dar Key West road trip coming soon... 💞

SONG:  February by Dar Williams

BOOK:  Bearing the Unbearable: Love, Loss, and the Heartbreaking Path of Grief by Dr. Joanne Cacciatore, Jeffrey Rubin (Foreword)

POEM:  In February by Alice Meynell

Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn,

Unseen, this colourless sky of folded showers,

And folded winds; no blossom in the bowers;

A poet's face asleep in this grey morn.

Now in the midst of the old world forlorn

A mystic child is set in these still hours.

I keep this time, even before the flowers,

Sacred to all the young and the unborn.

To all the miles and miles of unsprung wheat,

And to the Spring waiting beyond the portal,

And to the future of my own young art,

And, among all these things, to you, my sweet,

My friend, to your calm face and the immortal

Child tarrying all your life-time in your heart.

QUOTE:  “While it is February, one can taste the full joys of anticipation.  Spring stands at the gate, with her finger on the latch.” ~ Patience Strong

Family (by Pierce Pettis, covered by Dar Williams)

Thanks again for everyone's continued patience with me.  Maybe I'll just blather here for a while and, if you feel like commenting, that's great... but, whatever...

There are no good days, although there may be bright spots in an otherwise awful day.  Just about everything makes me cry.  Anything can remind me of Eric, in a random moment, sometimes unexplainable, and I just can't hold it in... nor do I want to.  At first I thought there were a finite number of tears and I would cry myself out, but it's become apparent they are unlimited, a bottomless well.  

It's awful that we are still dealing with logistical issues (believe it or not, we only *just* received the death certificates today), which means I have multiple people/businesses to mail them to.

Yes to countless ups and downs but... Nothing. Like. This.  This is big.  This is incomprehensible.  This is ongoing.  This is forever.  The part of my life that is Not Eric is detritus.  I do not care.  I cannot think about anything else right now.  I'm still not reading.  TV holds no interest for me.  Food seesaws between styrofoam and a means to keep me from blood sugar drops.  I cannot concentrate on anything.  My vocabulary/memory is all but gone.  

I am angry.  I am taking everything personally.  I am still in Denial... yet, when I read the Accident Report or the funeral home invoice, it is In-My-Face Real.  

Chico and I went looking for, and found, a box of DVDs of moments captured when we finally got a camcorder (Winter 2001; we were very late to the game).  We stopped time earlier today and watched a few (they're each about an hour), and we laughed and cried at the family dynamic, mostly our road trips to Atlanta, etc. for the Christmas holidays, another with all the kids' Santa visits spliced together (Perimeter Mall; thanks, Aunt Mari!).  Chico filmed my *ss a lot (ha!), but the footage of the kids is priceless.  We have decided we will take a few to my sister's house for Thanksgiving.  Healing or hurting?  Both/And.

I am currently trying to find the fine line between tiptoeing-out-into-the-world adventurer and nightgowned-and-fuzzy-socked hermit.  Sarah and I did make it to Rob's roommate's Halloween party last night and I basically wanted to leave as soon as I got there.  The music was too loud, the menu was meat-centric, and most people got very drunk very quickly.  Wearing my Mother Nature costume (the idea borrowed from Roxanne a bazillion years ago) for the first time in a while, I felt pretty (it's amazing what some lip gloss will do)... but I also felt as if I was having an out-of-body experience rather than being in-the-moment.

I am trying so hard to be Present; the Past leaves me stuck at the September 26 8:30 p.m. Line of Demarcation when E's proverbial David Copperfield tablecloth is yanked out from under the dishes... and the Future will forever be missing a chess piece that I took for granted would always be there (yep, mixed metaphors).

I need to say his name.  I say it a lot, because it keeps him front-and-center in my heart and mind.  Thanksgiving will be unbearable.  I believe December will be easier because 2022 was his first Christmas*not* with us, because Eric spent it with Duyen's family in a North Carolina cabin.  

So, I'm really just a mess masquerading as a wife/mother/family member/friend/citizen of the world; I speak in soliloquys of heaving sobs and brain blips, reading messages into random occurrences that may not mean anything, but that I'm desperate to believe (rainbows and owls and synchronistic songs, oh my).

How does this happen?  Why did this happen?  (rhetorical questions both).  Walking and breathing and speaking will be a conscious effort for a very long time... 😖

SONG:  Family by Pierce Pettis (covered by Dar Williams)

BOOK:  I Wasn't Ready to Say Goodbye: Surviving, Coping and Healing After the Sudden Death of a Loved One by Brook Noel, Pamela D Blair PhD

POEM(S):  Watching My Friend Pretend Her Heart Isn’t Breaking by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star

would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons.

The equivalent weight of how much railway

it would take to get a third of the way to the sun.

It’s the collective weight of every animal

on earth. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible

until I consider how it is to swallow grief—

just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed

a neutron star. How dense it is,

how it carries inside it the memory of collapse.

How difficult it is to move then.

How impossible to believe that anything

could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other

with great tenderness. One is

the sheer miracle that we are here together

on a planet surrounded by dying stars.

One is that we cannot see what

anyone else has swallowed.

Helium by Rudy Francisco

When people ask how I’m doing I want to say, 

my depression is an angry deity, 

a jealous god 

a thirsty shadow that wrings my joy like a dishrag 

and makes juice out of my smile. 

I want to say, getting out of bed has become a magic trick. 

I am probably the worst magician I know. 

I want to say, this sadness is the only clean shirt I have left 

and my washing machine has been broken for months, 

but I’d rather not ruin someone’s day with my tragic honesty 

so instead I treat my face like a pumpkin. 

I pretend that it’s Halloween. 

I carve it into something acceptable. 

I laugh and I say, “I’m doing alright.”

QUOTE(S):  "Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement." ~ Albert Camus

"Forevers are composed of nows." ~ Emily Dickinson

“It is indeed a radical act of love just to sit down and be quiet for a time by yourself.” ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn

My Friends/Arrival (Dar Williams)

[Eric is in the back row, holding a red Solo cup, something blue around his neck, surrounded by his amazing peeps... 🙈🙉🙊]

Yes, it's earlier than I usually post.  I might actually get in the bed before midnight.  What a concept, right?  I am tired... drained... empty.  I have been doing my very best to be present for Eric throughout this process, but it's so incredibly exhausting.

The peopling continues, as I slowly let in those who have allowed me to keep my distance for the last two weeks.  Today was Laurie... long-time friend, singer-songwriter, confidante.  She and her partner Dana have been out west for most of the summer, and are now traveling home.  They will be performing at a house concert the evening of E's Celebration of Life, and I love the idea there will be music in Texas as well as here in Florida to honor my boy (if she had been home in time, I would have asked her to sing for the service).  

Tonight was my book club meeting and, because it takes place over Zoom, I thought I could... but I couldn't.  I am beyond grateful for everyone's love, support, virtual hugs, real hugs, GoFundMe donations, purple candle intentions, texts, e-mails, condolence cards, and whatever else my brain fog has inadvertently forgotten.  I know they (you) have been there for me as soon as they (you) heard about Eric's passing, and everyone will continue to be.  And the beat goes on.  Except it doesn't.  Not for a while.

We have a convergence of out-of-town family and friends starting tomorrow with Linda and Craig's arrival and continuing through Sunday (a poolside gathering Friday night, E's Celebration of Life Saturday, brunch at sweet Nancy's on Sunday)... and my dear college roommate Linda (who lives in Pensacola) will stick around through Wednesday, which will be comforting.

I really am the luckiest person on the planet to have such an incredibly wide and deep support system... 💗

"But they're waiting just the same

With their flashlights and their semaphores

And I'll act like I have faith and like that faith never ends

But I really just have friends..." ~ Dar Williams, My Friends

"And in the laughing times we know that we are lucky

And in the quiet times we know that we are blessed

And we will not be alone..." ~ Dar Williams, Arrival

SONG:  My Friends by Dar Williams (covered by Kirsten Maxwell)*** / Arrival by Dar Williams

BOOK:  Lost in Translation: A Collection of Recorded Poems and Emotions by Astrora

POEM:  Praise by Kelli Russell Agodon

Find me wild about stir-fry, about red velvet

sofas and the people who sleep inside books

and dream about commas. We are flooded

with forgetfulness, with fallen plum blossoms

misspelling our names on the driveway. Praise

our too many expectations, how we overestimate

the weather, each other, overestimate how deer

will appear if we arrive with food. Because reality

can be a knife, we sometimes ache to tear open

the tea bag, the ketchup packet, because wine

arrives ready to be poured, we are foolish

and happy—though our clothes do not fit,

we return to being alive and living

between roadblocks and detours, driving

our fingers into the edge of each other’s

pockets. Praise the bare trees that tried

to spell our names for their belief

they could—spells and misspellings,

fail and fail better, how lucky we are

just to be here, both of us touching each other

through these words, with all this exasperating joy. 

QUOTE:  "I am out with lanterns looking for myself." ~ Emily Dickinson


***when you click on the link, read the comments and you will see the absolute synchronicity of this cover... 💖

Harmonize (Rising Appalachia)

L-R:  Eric, Sarah, Dar, me, Rob, Chico
Labyrinth Cafe, Ft. Lauderdale FL - 10-2-2010

This photo is synchronistic for two reasons:  1)  it was taken almost 13 years ago to the day and 2) tonight I was supposed to be in Baltimore to attend the Dar Williams concert at The State Theater of Havre de Grace (I am on the board of The True North Project, which hosted the event).  I was scrolling through Facebook posts earlier and saw one where I commented: "Wouldn't miss it for the world!"... except that I did, and I have to be okay with it (I'm okay with it).  I have no doubt that Pam (Creative Director of TNP, as well as dear friend) will fill me in on every little detail.  I am practicing patience, difficult for my IG Leo self.  But, earlier in the evening, I went out on the balcony, lit some candles, and had a lovely conversation with my sister, who encouraged me to take "space and grace" (I love that).  After we hung up, I stayed outside, sipped on a huge mug of Kava tea, listened to a Dar Williams playlist, and pretended I was at the show.  It was the next best thing... 🎵

My husband and I received a beautiful e-mail from Eric's bosses in Atlanta; Duyen had the unfortunate task of contacting them the night he died to inform of his death.  We asked her to connect us, and they reached out today.  They shared glowing words about his enthusiasm, his work ethic, his business savvy.  We were/are so proud.

E's Celebration of Life is really falling into place (and by that I mean, our team/village/community is coming together to weave all the moving parts into a gathering worthy of our son/brother/boyfriend).  It truly is what's keeping me moving forward... 💗

I think I am finally coming up for air.  Maybe Amy hypnotized me (kidding!) but, after my meeting with her yesterday, which I left feeling peaceful, believe it or not, I still do.  I'm not going to question it; I'm just going to embrace it.  There will be more tears, more meltdowns, more shaking my fist at the sky, but for now I'm breathing without snotting, which is a win on any/every level, right?

And I have a massage tomorrow.  Ommmm... ૐ

SONG:  Harmonize by Rising Appalachia

BOOK:  How to Write a Song that Matters by Dar Williams

POEM:  This is what was bequeathed us by Gregory Orr

This is what was bequeathed us:

This earth the beloved left

And, leaving,

Left to us.

No other world

But this one:

Willows and the river

And the factory

With its black smokestacks.

No other shore, only this bank

On which the living gather.

No meaning but what we find here.

No purpose but what we make.

That, and the beloved’s clear instructions:

Turn me into song; sing me awake.

QUOTE:  "Life cannot be handled.  The secret is simply to show up.  It's about witnessing it all, even the pain, and letting it touch you and make you not harder, but more tender.  Showing up, feeling it all — this is my new kind of prayer.  I call it praying attention, and it's how, for me, everything turns holy." ~ Glennon Doyle

Close to My Heart (Dar Williams)

A snippet of something I shared on Facebook today, in response to a meme:  "...I also include sobbing uncontrollably, craving solitude, swearing like a f*cking sailor, shutting down, snapping at well-meaning friends and family, using sleep as an escape, etc." later adding:  "Semantics. My English major/Journalism minor self has a tendency to put words under a magnifying glass, trying to find just the right one for every occasion (annoying to others, but so very me). My friend Fred (who is a Hospice Chaplain) reminded me that, re: the Stages of Grief scale: "Sometimes it's never acceptance. Sometimes it's enough to get to resignation." "

Thank you, FM.  I cannot imagine getting to Acceptance anytime soon, if at all.

My dear friend Nancy, whose Love Language is Food, has been waiting so patiently, while cooking up the proverbial storm, and she wanted to drop something off today, fully prepared to leave it at my doorstep; difficult as it was, I asked her to come in because I needed a hug and, goddess love her, she stayed for almost two hours (once I started, I couldn't stop talking), in full listening mode, allowing me to spew, sob, snot.  I felt a bit of peace after she left (of course, she went home with an extra burden... 😟)

I may be ready for more peopling, but only in baby steps (which made me tell Duyen about What About Bob?, which was one of Eric's favorite movies).  We talked about watching it "together", her in Atlanta, and the rest of us here in South Florida.

Chico and I have been trying to do everything ourselves and allowing our children to grieve, then realized we've been doing them a disservice.  Now we are delegating, which is of course so much better on many levels.  It is insane what needs to be accomplished after someone dies.  I have a 20-item To Do List, and it's not even Monday yet!

Many of you know I had planned to fly up to the Baltimore area on Wednesday for Thursday's Dar Williams concert at The State Theater of Havre de Grace.  I am Booking Lead on the board of The True North Project, and was thrilled to add her to our schedule. Pam (Creative Director) and I were going to stay in a Bed & Breakfast for almost a week, hang out in the funky little town of HDG, and enjoy deep as well as hilarious conversation.  Obviously, there's no way now, as I cannot imagine being normal, much less joyful, and there is a huge hole in my heart.

Speaking of hearts, I wrote this post waaaaaay back in 2007; I've tried very hard not to repeat songs over the course of my blogging, but who knew it would have such a different interpretation 16 years later?.. 💞

SONG:  Close to My Heart by Dar Williams

BOOK:  100 Poems To Break Your Heart by Edward Hirsch

POEM:  For Nothing Is Fixed by James Baldwin

For nothing is fixed,

forever, forever, forever,

it is not fixed;

the earth is always shifting,

the light is always changing,

the sea does not cease to grind down rock.

Generations do not cease to be born,

and we are responsible to them

because we are the only witnesses they have.

The sea rises, the light fails,

lovers cling to each other,

and children cling to us.

The moment we cease to hold each other,

the moment we break faith with one another,

the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.

QUOTE:  "Sometimes, I’m the mess.  Sometimes, I’m the broom.  On the hardest days, I have to be both." ~ Rudy Francisco

Holly Tree (Dar Williams)

In honor of Halloween this Sunday (October 31, as usual!).

"Calling yourself a witch at this moment in history is a BIG deal. Our way of being as women has been persecuted for millennia. The word ‘witch’ has been vilified and slung around as an insult. So it’s no wonder that we, as women, hold back our power, hush our voices, and stay small because we’ve been told that being powerful is unsafe. 

Our work, the work of the witch, is to make it safe to be powerful again. 

Being powerful in the face of thousands of years of patriarchal expectations and conditioning means going against so many of the things you’ve been taught, right?  And yet… the power to shape events, to change things up and make things happen flows naturally through you. Your biology is honed and optimized to wield that power and use it for good. 

It’s your birthright as a woman.

This is witch work.

The thing is, so many of us have grown really good at playing the roles we’ve been offered up as women in the world...

The problem? I don’t know about you, but when I’ve played these roles (and I’ve played many of them in the past), I’ve always found myself feeling a combination of unfulfilled/hungry/displeased/restless. 

And if you feel that restlessness too? That’s the unexpressed part of you. 

Over time, that part of you starts to scream inside. The scream becomes deafening. All-consuming. 

For some it shows up as pain and dis-ease in the body. For others it’ll be depression and/or anxiety. 

You may use food/drink/shopping/drugs to numb it. 

At first, you’ll probably push it down. 

And in pushing down the scream, you’ll go one of two ways. You’ll either become despondent and submissive to life, or you’ll become aggressive and/or hardened – taking on predominantly masculine traits to survive....

I totally disconnected from my female body. I lived my life from the neck up, operating and making decisions decisions from my head.I lived life like a dude because that option seemed much easier than having to deal with being a woman who was never seen or heard...

Pushing down the scream is what we’re dealing with here... it’s a basic reality for so many women in the western world. Recognize it in your body. 

Recognize it in your being, because it’s time to stop pushing it down. It’s time to start letting it all be seen and felt. FULLY. 

This is witch work.

How do we dare to express our fullness? 

We must bring it ALL. 

Rage AND laughter. 

Beauty AND strength. 

Fierceness AND grace. 

Vulnerability AND force. 

Compassion AND passion."

~ Lisa Lister, Witch: Unleashed. Untamed. Unapologetic.

It is indeed Feel Good Friday and, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten/enlighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~ Six Kinds of Vegan Witches To Know:  Witches are known for being anti-establishment, resourceful, independent and deeply connected to the natural world, so is it any surprise that vegans have a natural affinity for witchery?

~ A Scaredy-Cat’s Investigation Into Why People Enjoy Fear:  Halloween is here again. That means your co-workers have planted surprise spiders around the office. You’ve been invited to a haunted hayride. Your neighbor’s yard has a full cemetery, rigged with motion detectors and pop-up zombies.

~ Monster Burgers Are Here This Weekend (Saturday, October 30 and Sunday, October 31):  Parlour Vegan's Halloween menu! (make sure to click over to page 2 as well... 👻 )

~ When ‘Boo!’ Is Only the Beginning:  What does it take to scare the candy corn out of someone? Performers at two of New York’s hallowed haunted attractions explain the secrets behind the shocks.

~ The Rumpus Advice Column #98: Monsters and Ghosts:  Dear Sugar, my mother left my father the month I was born. She remarried and had my brother two years later. My stepfather (the only father I knew) committed suicide when I was five years old. My mother became a raging alcoholic following his death. (continued at link)

~ BONUS, although not Halloween-related:  Dar Williams livestream: I'll Meet You Here, Live From the Road, tonight at 9:45 p.m. EDT!  Join Dar Williams, cellist/guitarist/vocalist Ward Williams, and keyboardist/vocalist Bryn Roberts to experience the I’ll Meet You Here tour from the comfort of your home. If you are immunocompromised, or caring for someone who is, you might not be able to come out to a live venue for the shows. We’ve read your emails and social media comments requesting an option to join Dar virtually. This show is for YOU. The show is free, but tips are always welcome and appreciated to help cover the costs of bringing this livestream to your home. Dar very much appreciates your enthusiasm and support!

SONG:  Holly Tree by Dar Williams

BOOK:  Magic Lessons: Book #1 of the Practical Magic Series by Alice Hoffman

POEM:  Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I [Round about the cauldron go] by William Shakespeare

The three witches, casting a spell

Round about the cauldron go;   

In the poison’d entrails throw.   

Toad, that under cold stone    

Days and nights hast thirty one   

Swelter’d venom sleeping got,   

Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.   

     Double, double toil and trouble; 

     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.   

Fillet of a fenny snake,   

In the cauldron boil and bake;   

Eye of newt, and toe of frog,   

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,   

Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,   

Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,   

For a charm of powerful trouble, 

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.   

     Double, double toil and trouble;   

     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.  

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,      

Witches’ mummy, maw and gulf     

Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,     

Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,     

Liver of blaspheming Jew,      

Gall of goat, and slips of yew     

Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,     

Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,     

Finger of birth-strangled babe      

Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,     

Make the gruel thick and slab:     

Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,     

For the ingredients of our cauldron.

     Double, double toil and trouble;   

     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.  

QUOTE(S):  “The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”  ~ W.B. Yeats

Where your fear is, there is your task. ~ C.G. Jung

“I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life - and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do.” ~ Georgia O’Keeffe 

Rainbow Connection (Kermit the Frog)

Has it really been two weeks since my husband and I visited Ft. Myers Beach to celebrate our 45th wedding anniversary?!?  Apparently so!

We drove across the state on scenic Alligator Alley... saw McMansions (ugh) north of Bonita Springs where shabby beach cottages used to be... checked into our beachfront room (the same hotel we used to vacation with family decades ago)... spent time at both the gulf and the pool... had some of the most delicious pizza we've ever eaten... applied aloe and cucumber peel-off face masques (!)... saw a rainbow (above)... read (a lot!)... walked along the beach and collected shells... visited The Silver Witch and picked up trinkets for the kids... saw an almost-perfect sunset... enjoyed another delicious dinner... begged for (and were granted) a late check-out... sad to leave, but reconnected and grateful for the experience... ☀🌈

It is indeed Feel Good Friday (coming in just barely under the wire!) and, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten/enlighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~ Face the Music: Singer-songwriter Dar Williams is back with ‘I’ll Meet You Here’:  The album is scheduled for release on Oct. 1 (TODAY!!!).

And this Spotlight Album Review: Dar Williams "I’ll Meet You Here"

~ The Melting Face Emoji Has Already Won Us Over:  Of the 37 new emojis approved this year, one has stood out as a visual proxy for our collective malaise.

~ Michaela Coel's Inspiring Emmy Speech in Full: 'Do Not Be Afraid to Disappear':  Accepting her award at the 2021 Emmys, Coel, becoming the first Black woman to take home the prize, dedicated her prize to "every survivor of sexual assault" and gave a nod to aspiring writers across the world.

~ Disney updates content warning for racism in classic films:  When played on the Disney+ streaming service, films such as Dumbo, Peter Pan and Jungle Book now flash up with a warning about stereotypes.


~ The Caring Community Newsletter (scroll about halfway down):  I hope this comes through.  It will be out officially tomorrow, but had to share a sneak-peek tonight.  I am very proud of my work... 😍

SONG:  Rainbow Connection (Kermit the Frog)

BOOK:  Rain Before Rainbows by Smriti Prasadam-Halls, David Litchfield (Illustrator)

POEM:  If You Want the Rainbow by Amy Baskin

—inspired by Dolly Parton’s infinitely wise words

“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow

you gotta put up with the rain.”

But storms can hit harder than any blow.

Just when you need relief, the skies will flow

and pummel you with tears and aches and pain.

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow,

kiss your hurts and hug them close. Above all, take it slow.

And breathe! Losing your shit cannot be called “a gain;”

your storms can hit harder than any blow!

Get wet. Jump in puddles toe-to-toe.

Take a stroll, hand-in-hand with a friend. This is sane.

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow,

thank the rain! It saturates you ‘til you know

you cannot get any wetter. Head inside. Get dry again

once storms have hit harder than any blow.

Towel off. Drink tea. Cuddle. Then work hard! And throw

aside the fears that you can’t take it. Let those wane.

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow,

know storms hit hard. They’re part of getting clean and letting go.

QUOTE:  “This is my wish for you: Comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, sunsets to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, Love to complete your life.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The End of the Summer (Dar Williams)

"Today is Autumn Equinox also known as a Pagan holiday called Mabon when night and day are at equal length, it is mainly a harvest festival, it is the last harvest before winter comes. In old times it would be a time to start stocking up on fruit, wheat, corn and grain for the winter months ahead.

This is a time of transformation, The great wheel has turned as we pass into a new season and say goodbye to Summer. The earth is going through a major shift, where darkness will now start to take over light as the nights slowly start to get longer and days get shorter. Cold will slowly start to take over warmth and death will start to take over life as plants will wilt and trees will start to lose their leaves, fields will become baron and grey. wild animals will start to hibernate and gather food for the winter months.

Mabon is a time of thanksgiving, we thank the God and Goddess for all that we have and thank them for the harvest we see before us. The sap of trees returns back to their roots deep in the earth, changing the greens of summer to the fires of autumn, to the flaming reds, oranges and golds. We are returning to the dark from whence we came. The Goddess is radiant as Harvest Queen and the God finally dies with his gift of pure love with the cutting of the last grain, he will descend into the underworld, his last day on earth will be Samhain when a gate will open between our world and underworld making the veil between our two world become thin.

We enjoy the abundance of fruit and vegetables at this time. It is customary to make stews made with root vegetables and to bake home made bread and pies, we would have a big family meal and invite friends and neighbours to join us, drinking cider and apple juice.

On Mabon we adorn our altars with pumpkins, nuts, corn, wheat, squash, fruits and any other seasonal fair and any falling leaves, pine cones or acorns we may find to honour the season and to thank the God and Goddess for the wealth of harvest bestowed upon us. Light candles with Autumn colours of red, orange, white, brown or gold. Also candles of black and white, black to represent the God and white to represent the Goddess. The alter will bring luck and protection. When lighting the candles ask the Goddess for her blessings and the God for protection for the colder, darker months to come.

Mabon is a transition for the Triple Goddess as she goes from her mother phase to her crone phase, her final phase from her journey of the year.

The Autumn Equinox is a time of balance, of both light and dark, it is a time to look within ourselves and balance our thoughts and emotions and to find balance in our lives. To embrace our dark and our light equally as one cannot exist without the other. it is when we stop and relax and enjoy the fruits of our personal harvests, whether they be from toiling in our gardens, working at our jobs, raising our families, or just coping with the hussle and bussle of everyday life.

Mabon reminds us of the cycle of life, death and rebirth. As we go into the dark half of the year, we also know that Spring and Summer will be upon us again and life will flourish once more.

Hoof and Horn, Hoof and Horn

All that dies shall be reborn

Corn and Grain, Corn and Grain

All that falls shall rise again

May your Mabon be memorable and your hearts and spirits be filled to overflowing."

When I resurrected my blog in January 2020, I vowed not to re-use songs/books/poems/quotes... but it is a no-brainer to recycle Dar's anthem on this Autumn Equinox, 14 (!) years later almost to the day... 🍃🍁🍂

P.S.  AmyW, I miss our End-of-the-Summer-cards tradition; thanks for coordinating all those many years... 💞

P.P.S.  EOTS is also responsible for initiating a dear friendship with another Dar-lister in 1997, and we maintain a strong connection still... 😍

SONG:  The End of the Summer by Dar Williams

BOOK:  The End Of Summer by Rosamunde Pilcher

POEM:  Song for Autumn by Mary Oliver

In the deep fall

don’t you imagine the leaves think how

comfortable it will be to touch

the earth instead of the

nothingness of air and the endless

freshets of wind? And don’t you think

the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,

warm caves, begin to think

of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep

inside their bodies? And don’t you hear

the goldenrod whispering goodbye,

the everlasting being crowned with the first

tuffets of snow? The pond

vanishes, and the white field over which

the fox runs so quickly brings out

its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its

bellows. And at evening especially,

the piled firewood shifts a little,

longing to be on its way.

QUOTE:  "Come, little leaves," said the Wind one day, "Come to the meadows with me and play. Put on your dresses of red and gold; For Summer is past, and the days grow cold.” ~ George Cooper

Weight of the World (Dar Williams)

Remember our Love in the Time of CoronaVirus journal?  It was Rob's brilliant idea (mid-March 2020, only a few weeks into the pandemic) to start and pass a blank notebook back and forth among family members, to share our thoughts, drawings, poems, songs, etc. during this challenging time.  What a tangible gift this has been to ourselves, and each other.  The book, and the act of rotation, has served to remind us that Family. Is. Everything... and the MossFam6 is indeed a strong and powerful force to Do Good in the world... 💞

It became obvious a few days ago that the journal had gone MIA; indeed, no one had written in it since mid-April (the culprits were discovered, and we are back in busy-ness).  Then again, four months ago, the pandemic seemed to be less threatening, since most people took advantage of the free vaccines and there were fewer COVID outbreaks, and certainly of less severity.  

Unfortunately, there is a segment of the population who have *refused* to get vaccinated which, because of the new Delta variant, has now fostered additional illness, as well as death.  Are you f*cking kidding me?!?  The first poem below says it all.

It is indeed Feel Good Friday and, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten/enlighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Op-Ed: As a doctor in a COVID unit, I’m running out of compassion for the unvaccinated. Get the shot:  In a letter to the unvaccinated, Dr. Anita Sircar writes: If you believe you can ride out the pandemic without getting vaccinated, “you could not be more wrong. This virus will find you.” 

~  How Walking (Just Walking!) Changed My Life:  When I was in college, my roommate, Kristi, convinced me to go to the gym with her. I remember feeling intimidated. I was slight, pale and Goth-leaning with oxblood lipstick and zero muscle tone. I was certain everyone could tell I was an imposter in borrowed Lycra.


~ Lorde’s Work Here Is Done. Now, She Vibes.:  She was a teen phenom who followed her hit “Royals” with a critically acclaimed album. But now 24, the New Zealand musician isn’t chasing hits. She’s following the sun.


~ Modern Mrs Darcy:  Modern Mrs Darcy, which derives its name from a Jane Austen book, is a lifestyle blog for nerds who appreciate Anne’s modus operandi of approaching old, familiar ideas from new and fresh angles. While Modern Mrs. Darcy isn’t strictly a book blog, Anne writes frequently about books and reading. (thanks to Michele for the heads-up!)


~ MUST HAVE (2): A Friend With An “Oh Sh*t Kit” (scroll about halfway down): In my circle, I am that friend, the one who comes prepared. But I'm an amateur compared to my friend, S. She’s got Hermione Granger-level wizardry happening in her bag, which she calls her “oh sh*t kit.”

SONG:  Weight of the World by Dar Williams

BOOK:  Miracle in the Mundane: Poems, Prompts, and Inspiration to Unlock Your Creativity and Unfiltered Joy by Tyler Knott Gregson

POEM(S):  Delta by Rachel Mallalieu

You remember what it was like

in the early days—

when restaurants sent food

and churches dropped off

care packages

Everyone said thank you

& sometimes clapped

and even when the waves

of patients crashed

into your emergency room,

you were able to breathe

Now, you’re so weary,

that when it begins again,

you can hardly muster

energy to care as

your vaccine antibodies

engage in combat with

the squadron of medications

you consume in order to control

your autoimmune disease &

you hope the antibodies win

because you’re placing

breathing tubes

into eager airways again &

when your friends

don’t get vaccinated,

you take it personally & you

know this isn’t about you,

but you’re spent, nothing’s

left & you don’t think

you can watch

people die alone again

while you hold their iPhones as

they gasp goodbye

You stop kissing your children

for a little while & you also

update your will

But on your days off,

you take long hikes and

walk the ridge

where butterflies flit

among the milkweed blossoms

You kneel beside a monarch

& pray that your vaccine holds

as you rest in the shadow

of its stained glass wings

[Rachel Mallalieu: “I am an emergency physician who’s been on the front lines of the Covid battle for 18 months. I also developed an autoimmune illness this year, which makes every Covid encounter feel even more dangerous. As spring gave way to summer, it felt like we had turned a corner. I went weeks without seeing cases in my ER. My teen children were vaccinated, and my younger kids went to camp. Suddenly, my ER has multiple Covid patients every shift again. They’re younger, sicker, and some are dying. It is exhausting to be in this battle; we finally have the weapon with which to fight, and some refuse that weapon. These days, I just try to do right by my patients and take care of myself and my family when I’m off.”]

Moss-Gathering by Theodore Roethke 

To loosen with all ten fingers held wide and limber

And lift up a patch, dark-green, the kind for lining cemetery baskets,

Thick and cushiony, like an old-fashioned doormat, 

The crumbling small hollow sticks on the underside mixed with roots, 

And wintergreen berries and leaves still stuck to the top, —

That was moss-gathering. 

But something always went out of me when I dug loose those carpets 

Of green, or plunged to my elbows in the spongy yellowish moss of the marshes:

And afterwards I always felt mean, jogging back over the logging road, 

As if I had broken the natural order of things in that swampland;

Disturbed some rhythm, old and of vast importance,

By pulling off flesh from the living planet;

As if I had committed, against the whole scheme of life, a desecration. 

[Susan's note:  with that title, how could I resist?!?]

QUOTE:  "Here's the thing: If you wait for ‘normal’ to return, if you endlessly torture yourself with the fact that reality refuses to match your expectations, if you complain nonstop about all the surreal shifts and vagaries of the culture, if you halt all deep, inquiry-based practices - spiritual, physical, otherwise - until the mask mandate drops or the virus is cured or all QAnon/anti-vaxxers slither back into the muck and the world somehow rights itself in a way you agree with, well, you will likely be miserable for quite a long time.  We must move. Invoke more life. Seek more truth, ever more skillfully. Smile and sigh through the cotton/Lycra covering part of your face and just. Get. On. With. It. Because the other option is just fatalism and doom and endless whining. And no one wants that." ~ Mark Morford