Top pic is Eric's Instagram tagline, and below that a sticker I bought and installed on the rear windshield of my car, *inspired by* E's Instagram tagline. Bought one for Chico, Sarah, and Duyen as well... 💗
Just when it feels as if Life is settling down, we had an appointment with Bank of America to attempt to get the details of E's secondary checking account (where he was saving up for Duyen's ring). Even though we presented them with his death certificate, we still had to fill out forms which then have to go through their Estate Department (at first I thought she said *State* Department, and wondered why the government had to get involved - ha!). So many flaming hoops. Ugh... 🔥
Today we spread Eric's ashes at the park in our old neighborhood, where we lived from 1992-2018. More on that Tuesday. Not sure if it's peace or panic, but I'm feeling quiet tonight.
POEM(S): In Blackwater Woods by Mary Oliver
QUOTE: “Misery won't touch you gentle. It always leaves its thumbprints on you; sometimes it leaves them for others to see, sometimes for nobody but you to know of.” ~ Edwidge Danticat
Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
On Safety by Nadine Pinede
When the storms of life
come bearing down
threatening to
lash you senseless,
seek shelter.
Find the warm
blanket you caress
like the felted fur
of your cat
curled before
a glowing hearth,
of breath that fills
both heart and earth.
Breathe.
There’s always time
to curse the darkness.
After the tears,
light a honeycomb candle
and heal your own sun.
The bridge
from sorrow to joy
may seem to vanish
in the flood,
but who says you
can’t join those
who cross over,
with a single
braided rope
of gratitude.
