Edge of the Ocean (Stick Figure)

Today I Feel Like... indeed. March 26 is the six-month mark of Eric's death. All the feelings. Ack. I have watched this lovely 6-minute video created by John Teeto and E's other friends three times today, and I thought it might bring some comfort and joy here as well. We miss you so much, buddy... ❤️

I seem to have lost my concentration/focus for blogging.  Perhaps that means I'm experiencing healing to some degree, and don't depend on it as a coping mechanism as much as I used to?  Bereavement group every Monday sustains me, as does therapy every other Monday (I am making great strides sharing my honest thoughts as well as with EMDR).  I continue to express my gratitude for the best family-and-friends support system ever.  Regular get-togethers with Eric's pals (whether IHOP breakfasts or Bob Marley movie viewings) are lovely as well as comforting.

I am getting out of the house and engaging with others more often; still setting boundaries, being more discriminating as to how I'm spending my time, and not allowing myself to take on more than I can handle.

Besides the trip to see Dar Williams in Key West (early-February), I took another road trip with Nancy last week (this time to Brooksville) to visit our long-time friend Peggy-now-Maggie, who moved to Sweden many years ago and now resides in Finland.  We took her out to dinner, convinced her to spend the night with us at our hotel, and stayed up quite late talking.  Much hilarity as well as sadness ensued (her son William overdosed in 2020, so she "gets it").  I also gave her a pouch of E's ashes, as he has never been to Scandinavia... 🤣

Returned from there Wednesday night, went to Gary's Celebration of Life (he was a church friend, ran sound for the Labyrinth Cafe the last two years (2018-19), and coordinated the A/V at Eric's service.  An unexpected and altogether-too-sudden infection and death... 💔

Then Chico, Sarah, and I drove to Pensacola for my friend/college roommate Linda's daughter Rachel's (confused yet?) baby shower (a very long drive but well worth it).  We've stayed close over the years, and of course many memories were conjured, especially Sarah and I driving to Pensacola three weeks after Rachel was born, to meet her and to keep Linda and Craig company.  The Circle Game... 😍

An extra perk was that, on our way home, we stopped in Tallahassee to meet up with Melanie (Nick is in Texas tiling a bathroom!) at a local coffee shop for hugs and catch-up conversation... 💜

And now for Unpacking and Recovery!

P.S.  Eric's friends alerted me that Stick Figure was one of his favorite bands, and they are getting a group together to see them in August.

SONG:  Edge of the Ocean by Stick Figure

BOOK:  Walking Each Other Home: Conversations on Loving and Dying by Ram Dass, Mirabai Bush

POEM:  Somehow by Dorothy Chan

For Norman

You visit me in a dream after passing,

            after I’ve been awaiting you for weeks,

because Chinese belief teaches us our

            loved ones will appear when we’re asleep.

It’s real when I enter the hotel restaurant

            in the middle of nowhere town I live in,

as the Midwest architecture transforms

            into Kowloon at evening time. We eat

bird’s nest soup, and I remember the time

            my father ordered me this four-hundred-

year-old delicacy at Hong Kong airport.

            Out comes the Peking duck, and I ask you:

“Why did it take you so long?” You answer:

            “I arrived once you were strong and ready.” 

Not to Make Loss Beautiful by Gregory Orr

Not to make loss beautiful,

But to make loss the place

Where beauty starts. Where

the heart understands

For the first time

The nature of its journey.

Love, yes. The body

of the beloved as the gift

Bestowed. But only

Temporarily. Given freely,

But now to be earned.

Given without thought,

And now loss

Has made us thoughtful.

My Son the Man by Sharon Olds

Suddenly his shoulders get a lot wider,

the way Houdini would expand his body

while people were putting him in chains. It seems

no time since I would help him to put on his sleeper,

guide his calves into the gold interior,

zip him up and toss him up and

catch his weight. I cannot imagine him

no longer a child, and I know I must get ready,

get over my fear of men now my son

is going to be one. This was not

what I had in mind when he pressed up through me like a

sealed trunk through the ice of the Hudson,

snapped the padlock, unsnaked the chains,

and appeared in my arms. Now he looks at me

the way Houdini studied a box

to learn the way out, then smiled and let himself be manacled.

QUOTE:  "It isn’t always easy to hold on, especially when the world keeps spinning, but it is easier if we hang on together. That way we are connected, linked together, and stronger than any one of us could ever be alone. It does not matter that we are from different backgrounds or different faiths: what matters is that we care with and for one another. The unraveling of reality only occurs when we let go, let go of our hope and our vision. When we hold on to what we believe, our diversity becomes a bond that cannot be broken. So if you feel like you are hanging on, you are, but never alone. Thousands of us are holding on with you." ~ Steven Charleston

"It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. I was so preposterously serious in those days… Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me… So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling…" ~ Aldous Huxley

One Voice (The Wailin' Jennys)

HOLLYBROOK

CLOSURE UPDATE

 Broward County Government Order

 We can do this together!

   

Effective Immediately

Per Broward County Order 20-05:

Due to the Coronavirus pandemic, ALL recreation facilities COUNTYWIDE are CLOSED until further notice.

Read the order by clicking here

THE CLOSURES INCLUDE:

-       ALL Pools

-       ALL BBQ Areas

-       ALL Tennis AND Pickleball Courts

-       BOTH Golf Courses (PGA and Par-3)

- ALL Bocce and Shuffleboard courts

   We implore all Residents to obey the restrictions at all recreational areas until we are advised otherwise.  As of now, we have no end date, so continue to follow the order until notified.

It is for your safety and protection that we all abide by the order. Your staff and administration continue to put your best interests first.

Hollybrook Strong! 

-       Thank You

      We can do this together!

Well sh*t, there goes one of my coping mechanisms.  Pool:  swimming laps, stretching in the water, sunning in a lounge chair.  Ugh.  D*mmit.  Sigh.  Then again, the silver lining is, now that the golf course is closed, my walking area expands.  Tried it out earlier today, and so many new paths are available.  Have decided to walk twice a day, in the morning with my husband, and in the afternoon solo (with earbuds, my phone Pandora on shuffle).  Here are some photos from our a.m. paseo:

We remain lucky that we, and those nearest and dearest, are unscathed.  We will do whatever it takes to conjure a swifter end to this pandemic.


SONG:  One Voice by The Wailin' Jennys

BOOK:  More Together Than Alone: Discovering the Power and Spirit of Community in Our Lives and in the World by Mark Nepo

POEM:  For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human Feet by Joy Harjo

Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop.

Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control.

Open the door, then close it behind you.

Take a breath offered by friendly winds. They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean.

Give it back with gratitude.

If you sing it will give your spirit lift to fly to the stars’ ears and back.

Acknowledge this earth who has cared for you since you were a dream planting itself precisely within your parents’ desire.

Let your moccasin feet take you to the encampment of the guardians who have known you before time, who will be there after time. They sit before the fire that has been there without time.

Let the earth stabilize your postcolonial insecure jitters.

Be respectful of the small insects, birds and animal people who accompany you.
Ask their forgiveness for the harm we humans have brought down upon them.

Don’t worry.

The heart knows the way though there may be high-rises, interstates, checkpoints, armed soldiers, massacres, wars, and those who will despise you because they despise themselves.

The journey might take you a few hours, a day, a year, a few years, a hundred, a thousand or even more.

Watch your mind. Without training it might run away and leave your heart for the immense human feast set by the thieves of time.

Do not hold regrets.

When you find your way to the circle, to the fire kept burning by the keepers of your soul, you will be welcomed.

You must clean yourself with cedar, sage, or other healing plant.

Cut the ties you have to failure and shame.

Let go the pain you are holding in your mind, your shoulders, your heart, all the way to your feet. Let go the pain of your ancestors to make way for those who are heading in our direction.

Ask for forgiveness.

Call upon the help of those who love you. These helpers take many forms: animal, element, bird, angel, saint, stone, or ancestor.

Call your spirit back. It may be caught in corners and creases of shame, judgment, and human abuse.

You must call in a way that your spirit will want to return.

Speak to it as you would to a beloved child.

Welcome your spirit back from its wandering. It may return in pieces, in tatters. Gather them together. They will be happy to be found after being lost for so long.

Your spirit will need to sleep awhile after it is bathed and given clean clothes.

Now you can have a party. Invite everyone you know who loves and supports you. Keep room for those who have no place else to go.

Make a giveaway, and remember, keep the speeches short.

Then, you must do this: help the next person find their way through the dark. 

QUOTE:  "We are nothing if we walk alone; we are everything when we walk together in step with other dignified feet." ~ Subcomandante Marcos

May I Suggest (Susan Werner)

Today I found out a woman from church died during an operation - J's passing is still very much on my mind. I read this poem and thought of my friend T, who lost *two* sons to bizarre accidents, one a car crash and the other a lightning strike - we worked together and every time we heard an ambulance siren, she would begin to tremble. I can't even imagine - our children are supposed to bury us, and not the other way around. It's easy to get lost in the abyss... which is why we should embrace Gandhi's philosophy - otherwise, it would be too painful to put one foot in front of the other each day. As Todd Snider sings, "I've learned nothing but that there is another sunrise coming all but one of the times it sets" - words to live by (pun semi-intended... <3 )

SONG: May I Suggest by Susan Werner

BOOK: Be Here Now by Ram Dass

POEM: Picnic, Lightning by Billy Collins

It is possible to be struck by a

meteor or a single-engine plane while

reading in a chair at home. Pedestrians

are flattened by safes falling from

rooftops mostly within the panels of

the comics, but still, we know it is

possible, as well as the flash of

summer lightning, the thermos toppling

over, spilling out on the grass.

And we know the message can be

delivered from within. The heart, no

valentine, decides to quit after

lunch, the power shut off like a

switch, or a tiny dark ship is

unmoored into the flow of the body's

rivers, the brain a monastery,

defenseless on the shore. This is

what I think about when I shovel

compost into a wheelbarrow, and when

I fill the long flower boxes, then

press into rows the limp roots of red

impatiens -- the instant hand of Death

always ready to burst forth from the

sleeve of his voluminous cloak. Then

the soil is full of marvels, bits of

leaf like flakes off a fresco,

red-brown pine needles, a beetle quick

to burrow back under the loam. Then

the wheelbarrow is a wilder blue, the

clouds a brighter white, and all I

hear is the rasp of the steel edge

against a round stone, the small

plants singing with lifted faces, and

the click of the sundial as one hour

sweeps into the next.

QUOTE: "Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever." ~ Gandhi