Showing posts with label Louise Erdrich. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Louise Erdrich. Show all posts

Monday, June 10, 2024

Carry On (Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young)

At 10 a.m. today, I was weeping inconsolably in the local AT&T store.

Let's start at the beginning, shall we?  Rewind.

When I dropped my phone a few months ago and went there for a replacement, the amazing Raquel explained to me that, due to Eric's death, we could have him taken off the account and switch myself and my husband over to the Florida 55 Plus Plan, therefore saving us money.  E's girlfriend still had his phone and was using it, with our permission, for various music apps, photos, and of course, to hear the sound of his voice through his voicemail.  We approached her at that point and offered her three months grace period to transfer over whatever she needed so we could make the adjustment in our bill.

Today's appointment was to make that happen, and we got Carlos (who was a bit of a d*ck), who explained we had to remove Eric from the account via phone (not with them in-store), so I called them immediately.  I had already gotten teary-eyed telling Carlos of E's death, and then I had to do it *three more times*, as Shante transferred me to Tracy who transferred me to Asha, each one very helpful but starting from scratch.  In the span of 15 minutes, I had to tell *four* people that my son died eight months ago.  What is wrong with Customer Service these days?  Shouldn't the first person fill in the next person on *why* the customer needs assistance?  Why must I repeat this backstory, upsetting me more with each retelling?  Good thing I always keep my handkerchief (purchased for Eric's Celebration of Life) in my purse.  I was in full-on snotting mode.

And then, thankyoujesus, instead of the very impatient Carlos, the incredibly sweet (as well as efficient) Raquel stepped in, and was able to, efficiently and kindly, tie everything up, asking us the right questions, finding additional ways to shave off even more dollars, such that we walked away, now owing $100 *less* every month moving forward than what we were paying.  Grateful on so many levels... 💖

Then my 12:30-2 p.m. Bereavement Group, where I was able to vent the above; I adore those people.

Then a therapy session with Leigh, who has been so instrumental in moving me forward with my healing, so much so that, in July, I'll be attending monthly instead of every other week.  Continued thanks for my incredible support system... 🪷

Also, I included this book because it is Eileen's choice for our book club this Wednesday, synchronistic because, when Eric was moving to Atlanta last March, he had many books he asked me to donate.  I kept this one because I remembered it was required reading for him in high school, oh so many years ago.  I am glad I am finally getting around to reading it.  I wish he were around so I could discuss it with him.... 🕮

SONG:  Carry On by Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young null

BOOK:  The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien null

P.S.  I seem to be having trouble posting my links, and will get that figured out soon; in the meantime, click on the word null, and it goes right through... 😬


POEM:  “Where did the handsome beloved go?” by Jalal Al-Din Rumi
Translated by Brad Gooch and Maryam Mortaz

Where did the handsome beloved go?
I wonder, where did that tall, shapely cypress tree go?

He spread his light among us like a candle.
Where did he go? So strange, where did he go without me?

All day long my heart trembles like a leaf.
All alone at midnight, where did that beloved go?

Go to the road, and ask any passing traveler — 
That soul-stirring companion, where did he go?

Go to the garden, and ask the gardener — 
That tall, shapely rose stem, where did he go?

Go to the rooftop, and ask the watchman — 
That unique sultan, where did he go?

Like a madman, I search in the meadows!
That deer in the meadows, where did he go?

My tearful eyes overflow like a river — 
That pearl in the vast sea, where did he go?

All night long, I implore both moon and Venus — 
That lovely face, like a moon, where did he go?

If he is mine, why is he with others?
Since he’s not here, to what “there” did he go?

If his heart and soul are joined with God,
And he left this realm of earth and water, where did he go?

Tell me clearly, Shams of Tabriz,
Of whom it is said, “The sun never dies” — where did he go?

[Guest Editor Sarah Ruhl:  “I have long been obsessed with Rumi, who distills life into the poetry of ecstasy. Coleman Barks’s beautiful translations in A Year with Rumi, Daily Readings got me through the first year of the pandemic. Rumi’s poems were good medicine to take every day. The above translation is by Brad Gooch and Maryam Mortaz. Gooch has gorgeously translated many of Rumi’s as yet unseen poems as well as writing a biography of Rumi centered on his relationship with Shams, the great friend, the beloved, the Sufi master. So much of Rumi’s ecstatic poetry would not exist were it not for his profound love of Shams Tabrizi—mystic, poet, love, and teacher.”]

QUOTE:  
"We are so brief. A one-day dandelion. A seedpod skittering across the ice. We are a feather falling from the wing of a bird. I don’t know why it is given to us to be so mortal and to feel so much. It is a cruel trick, and glorious." ~ Louise Erdrich

Tuesday, January 16, 2024

My Silver Lining (First Aid Kit)

Since 2008, it has been my custom each January 1 (a so-far-17-year tradition) to ascribe to Christine Kane's concept of choosing a Word of the Year to inspire/motivate/give me direction as to the tone/theme of my upcoming 52 weeks/365 days.  In retrospect, some of my previous words/phrases have been Release, Create, Let It Go, Health, Light, Follow-Through, Contentment, Forward, Stretch, and last year's Sage.

After much pondering (I had it narrowed down to three:  runners-up were Gratitude and Heart/Love), I decided on Now/Be Present for 2024.

If there is anything I have learned since Eric's fatal car accident on September 26, 2023... it is that *Everything* can turn upside-down in the blink of an eye.  Monumentally.  Irrevocably.  Unimaginably.  We think it's a cliche until it happens to us.  In fact, I'd venture to say we go through life thinking that it *won't* happen to us.  Strangers, yes.  Friends of friends, yes.  Sometimes even friends.  But we're still somehow One Degree of Separation from an actual tragedy.  Until it does.  No wouldas/couldas/shouldas.  No what-ifs.  No if-onlys.  Bam.  A family, a couple, a neighborhood, the world... is diminished by one.

For the past 90+ days, I have spiraled through anxious, needy, emotional, worrying, extrapolating, melancholy, self-destructive, desperate, scrambling, hyper-ventilating.  I was a big, fat, f*cking mess... and I had a good reason for being so.  My son is gone and, as many times as I write/say/scream it, that basic fact will not change.  I continue to replay in my head the phone call from his girlfriend (across state lines) that changed my life.  It was visceral.  My stomach flip-flopped.  The tears welled.  I haven't been suicidal, but I needed to figure out how to get out of the loop.

I now wake up every morning, and do my best to talk myself off the proverbial ledge.  I realize I hadn't been taking care of myself as well as I should; everyone else, yes... but not me.  Vowing (and following through) with taking my vitamins/supplements, eating more healthfully, moving my body, muting my phone and setting aside quiet time, maintaining boundaries.  The grief journey (there is no destination) continues, as does the healing.

What's done is done; I can't alter the past, nor can I control the future.  But Right Now, The Present, is within my grasp.  I will do everything in my power to honor E and make him proud of me... one thought, task, day at a time... ⏰


SONGMy Silver Lining by First Aid Kit (and there is a f*cking owl in the video... 😲)


She walked naked
Into the New Year.
No definite plan.
No vision boards.
No intentions set.
No journals created.
No classes or workshops scheduled.

Only trust in the Great Mystery,
in Goddess,
to provide and direct
her Soul toward its destiny.

Dreaming the visions between
past and future lives,
She listened to the voice
of her Soul
as it called her forward
into love and grace and magnificence.

As it called her deeper into her purpose,
step by step by step.

With only an open heart
and the thrill of the journey,
She walked freely and open
into the coming year.
~ Arlene Bailey
Her Sacred Wild, Re-Membering the Wild Soul Woman 


The Only Prayer by James Crews

Because there was nothing else to do,
and the news frightened me as usual,
I took a walk on my favorite trail
in the woods, and because the snow
began to melt as soon as it fell,
everything was wet—the lichen a bright
lime-green on the bark of each fallen tree,
the leaves beneath my feet deliciously
soft as they squelched and sank back
into the arms of the earth that shaped them. 
I picked up one of the limp, gold-
toned beech leaves, pressed it to my chest 
then left my despair on a mossy trunk,
like placing a lit candle on an altar
and saying the only prayer that matters:
I'm here, I’m here, I’m here.


With Astonishing Tenderness by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

When, in the middle of the night,
you wake with the certainty you’ve
done it all wrong, when you wake
and see clearly all the places you’ve failed,
in that moment, when dreams will not return,
this is the chance for your softest voice—
the one you reserve for those you love most—
to say to you quietly, oh sweetheart,
this is not yet the end of the story.
Sleep will not come, but somehow,
in that wide awake moment there is peace—
the kind of peace that does not need
everything to be right before it arrives.
The peace that comes from not fighting
what is real. The peace that rises
in the dark on its sure dark wings
to meet you exactly as you are.


QUOTE(S):  “There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.” ~ Jean-Paul Sartre 

"This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls." ~ John Muir

"We are so brief. A one-day dandelion. A seedpod skittering across the ice. We are a feather falling from the wing of a bird. I don’t know why it is given to us to be so mortal and to feel so much. It is a cruel trick, and glorious." ~ Louise Erdrich

Monday, October 9, 2023

Love, Love, Love (Love, Love) As Tall As Lions


Today was a hard day.  Then again, every day is a hard day (have I said this before?); it's just varying degrees.  My friend Linda said something about "grief upon grief upon grief", which seems a great descriptor to me.  How many levels of grief are there?  How much time have you got?  It feels like an archeological dig, as I navigate the layers of strata.  I have barely scratched the surface.

I had a good conversation with Sarah this morning about Life.... and then later with Rev. Amy about sound tech requirements... and somewhere in between Nance brought over some yummy pasta, which I had for both lunch and dinner.

Tomorrow will be two weeks since Eric died.  That's f*cked up.  In last night's post, I mentioned that I was going to listen to one of the two Spotify playlists of Eric's that I had downloaded.  Nope, I barely made it halfway through the first track... but, after I backed out, I scrolled through that one, and then the other... and noticed that this song appeared on each of them.  I've been waiting for E to appear to me.  I think he just did.

SONGLove, Love, Love (Love, Love) by As Tall As Lions

BOOKRemember Love: Words for Tender Times by Cleo Wade

POEM:  
Mother and Son by James Crews

Though you’re gone now,
my body still remembers
being held by you that evening,
wearing my blue fleece pajamas
with a white owl on the front,
and you saying, “Who, who,”
over and over, both of us laughing
as you explained that’s the sound
owls make when they need
to find each other in the darkness 
before sleep, a way of saying:
I can’t see you, but I know 
you must be there.

[Even though Crews is writing this poem from the son's point of view, I am choosing to view it from the mom's perspective.  Reader's interpretation, right?]

QUOTE:  "Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and being alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You have to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes too near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could." ~ Louise Erdrich