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

Closer to Fine (Indigo Girls)

"There's more than one answer to these questions

Pointing me in a crooked line..."

Glimmers.  I've seen the word before in others' writings, and I've referred to it elsewhere in this blog.  It's so easy to get stuck, mired, enveloped in the fog of grief.  Getting out of bed each morning feels insurmountable... putting one foot in front of the other to get through the day is challenging... coming to grips that your loved one is gone forever is still impossible to fathom.  And for a while that's all you can see.  Darkness.  Yeah, I realize the irony.

Yet, every once in a while, glimmers appear.  Small, brief, barely recognizable... but they're there.  Like fireflies.  And they speak of possibilities.  

And it won't be the default anytime soon, but Fun is finding its way back into our MossFam dynamic... and Laughter... and Joy.  Rob uncharacteristically called a Family Dinner into action tonight (it's usually *me* herding the cats).  I picked up pizza on the way over to Sarah's.  The theme was "New Year, New Me, New E".  There was a heartfelt toast.  We didn't know what to expect, but it morphed into an evening with Willie Nelson, Bette Midler/Annie, Will from Stranger Things, a mermaid, Slash, Kris Jenner (and Kris Jenner as a blonde!), and a cranky Dennis the Menace who was not amused, had to be bribed with brownies, and even then snarled his way through our photo-ops.  And it was very good... 💖💖💖💖💖

"It's only life after all, yeah..."

SONG:  Closer to Fine by Indigo Girls

BOOK:  Grief Glimmers Grace by Betsy B. Murphy

POEM(S):  The Edge by Donna Ashworth

Standing at the edge of a new chapter can be scary. 

The desire to run back into the pages you know so well, 

is more than tempting. But you must keep moving. 

Chapters end, even the good ones. 

And if you linger in the past too long, 

your story cannot unfold the way it should. 

And you might just miss the most beautiful moments of your life, 

whilst grieving the ones gone by. 

It’s scary at the edge, my friend, I know. 

But just jump. You have so much ahead. 

And the good stuff behind, will always be there.

The Way It Is by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Over and over we break

open, we break and

we break and we open.

For a while, we try to fix

the vessel—as if

to be broken is bad.

As if with glue and tape

and a steady hand we

might bring things to perfect

again. As if they were ever

perfect. As if to be broken is not

also perfect. As if to be open

is not the path toward joy.

The vase that’s been shattered

and cracked will never

hold water. Eventually

it will leak. And at some

point, perhaps, we decide

that we’re done with picking

our flowers anyway, and no

longer need a place to contain them

We watch them grow just

as wildflowers do—unfenced,

unmanaged, blossoming only

when they’re ready—and my god,

how beautiful they are amidst

the mounting pile of shards.

QUOTE(S):  "Without suffering, there's no happiness. So we shouldn't discriminate against the mud. We have to learn how to embrace and cradle our own suffering and the suffering of the world, with a lot of tenderness." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

“Don’t get me wrong: grief sucks, it really does. Unfortunately, though, avoiding it robs us of life, of the now, of a sense of living spirit.” ~ Anne Lamott

"Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place." ~ Rumi

Fix You (Coldplay)

Family vacation, July 2017, Cudjoe Key, photo credit: https://www.emileemcgovern.com/

It was a quiet, low-key week... Day-Quil-ing and Night-Quil-ing and Hall's lozenging, oh my!  I should have given you all a heads-up to buy stock in Kleenex... 🤣

It was also a strong emphasis on Radical Self-Care:  lots of hot baths, early bedtimes, catching up on TV shows (I finished Six Feet Under, at least as fabulous as I remembered it, if not more so):

"You think you finally get to the bottom of the feelings... and then there are more."

***

"I know.  I still can't believe it.  It's like... now we just go on with everything?  It's what people do."

***

"This is a hard day, and we're all very upset.  The loss of a young person is always a terrible blow.  But, in this case, it's even more cruel because [no spoiler!] was an idealist, and he struggled, all through his life, to be a good man.  He wasn't perfect; but then who among us is?  And he never gave up on himself, the people he loved, or even love itself, in all its vexing, beautiful forms."

***

"I forget how anyone ever gets over anything."

"...with time."

"...by remembering love."

"what the h*ll does that mean?"

"Slowly you fall back in love with whatever really mattered to you."

I started a WhatsApp Winter Wellness Challenge (in a no-pressure, no-guilt, no-stress definition of the word) for the month of December, inviting immediate as well as extended family members to join me in sharing (publicly or silently) their accomplishments... their stumbles... their affirmations... their words of wisdom... their get-up-and-do-it-again-amens... their memes... their goals, etc.  Motivate.  Inspire.  Encourage.  Today is Day 3 and it's already unbelievable lovely... 💖

I was delighted to test COVID-negative on Friday, meaning I could gather with Sarah, Colin, and Rob to decorate her Christmas tree that evening... as well as get back to the Hope garden yesterday.  "Oh patience" indeed... ॐ

SONG:  Fix You by Coldplay

BOOK:  Healing After Loss: Daily Meditations For Working Through Grief by Martha Whitmore Hickman

POEM(S):  Allium by Rosemerry Wahola Trommer

 

While I did not fix

the thing I most

wish to fix, and I

did not do

the most important

thing on my list,

and I did not save

anyone, and I did

not solve the world’s

problems, I did

plant the onion sets

in the garden,

pressed my fingers

into the dry earth,

knew myself as

a thin dry start.

Oh patience, good

self. This slow

and quiet growing,

this, too, is

what you are

here to do.

Shoulders by Naomi Shihab Nye

A man crosses the street in rain,

stepping gently, looking two times north and south,

because his son is asleep on his shoulder.

No car must splash him.

No car drive too near to his shadow.

This man carries the world's most sensitive cargo

but he's not marked.

Nowhere does his jacket say FRAGILE,

HANDLE WITH CARE.

His ear fills up with breathing.

He hears the hum of a boy's dream

deep inside him.

We're not going to be able

to live in this world

if we're not willing to do what he's doing

with one another.

The road will only be wide.

The rain will never stop falling.

QUOTE(S):  “You begin to cry and writhe and yell and then to keep on crying; and finally, grief ends up giving you the two best gifts: softness and illumination.” ~ Anne Lamott

“We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don't really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It's just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” ~ Pema Chödrön 

"Our death is our wedding with eternity." ~ Rumi

"I held on to a thought about my boy that helped me face a future without him:  He had loved me his whole life.  That love is precious; and it's for keeps.  I will not waste it." ~ Hilda Bastain

The Book of Love (Magnetic Fields)

"it's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes

and things we're all too young to know" indeed... 💕

I look back at my early visions/impressions of what love was "supposed to be" and realize how short a period of time I actually believed those fairytales.  Not soon after my own wedding, I witnessed my parents' marriage ending after 29 years, and knew then one was never safe.  Thank goodness.  My husband and I have had many lovely years together (46 1/2 to be exact, but who's counting?), and I hope we have many more... and woven throughout the ecstasy (thoughtfulness, kindness, mutual decisions, regular and rich intimacy, support) there has been agony:  thoughtlessness, disagreements/fights (with raised voices, but never physical), issues with children, financial troubles, philosophical differences, did I say children (ha!).  We have weathered multiple storms, and lived to tell about them, not always pretty but hopefully always a growth opportunity, as we continue to learn about ourselves and each other.  I hope we never stop learning and growing.

Today is Valentine's Day, and we've never stood on the ceremony of going out to dinner and/or presenting each other with elaborate/expensive gifts... although last year, given my recent passion, he did surprise me with a reversible garden bench/kneeler, and it was purple.  He knows me, he really knows me... ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

No matter what, though... it is our tradition to exchange cards, and he always writes some gorgeous heart-melting sentiment, and I am usually apologetic for being snippy and vowing to do better, and he loves me anyway, and our flaws and faults are forgotten until the next time, and there is an easiness to our togetherness, but there is also a pushing back which lends itself to passion and not taking each other for granted.  It's still hard work, but I'm worth it.  So is he... 💖

We toss around the phrase Love Language to each other, half-joking half-seriously; I love to receive validation and I love to give... food.  If I love you, I will cook for you; "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" is a cliche for a reason.  He appreciates my culinary skills/intuition; he has always loved my cooking, from the time we met in college and I would make pots of hot tea for him, and put together elaborate meals, culled from my background of a Southern father and an Italian mother.  R never ate vegetables until he met me; his mother raised him to believe there was nothing else beyond the boundary of mashed potatoes and canned corn.  And there were the seasons of squash, when we kept a percentage of what we'd harvest from his roommate's parents' farm, and sometimes we'd have four different kinds on our dinner plate, and I'd swear I was going to write the definitive cookbook:  From Acorn to Zucchini... 😉

We've recently become enamored with a new appetizer on Village Tavern's menu so I will be attempting to recreate their romesco sauce tonight, tossed with some angel hair pasta (his favorite) and embellished with capers and sliced almonds, with vegan meatballs on the side and of course some crusty bread to soak up every drop of that yummy sauce, to the tune of Bella Notte (at least in our heads, right?).

For dessert Overnight Raspberry Chia Pudding, substituting Hazelnut non-dairy creamer for the heavy cream... and adding 1/4 cup of unsweetened shredded coconut.  I also did not add any additional sweetener.  When it's time to serve, I will top with a few chopped pecans and some shaved dark chocolate.  Yum!

And, we will continue to espouse Jackson Browne's advice:  "get up and do it again... amen", remembering that the journey is better with the other by our side (but not joined at the hip nor chained at the ankle because... ugh).  And yes, we did have Kahlil Gibran's On Marriage read at our wedding waaaaaay back in 1976... ☮

SONG:  The Book of Love by Magnetic Fields

BOOK:  LVOE: Poems, Epigrams & Aphorisms by Atticus

POEM:  Attention of the Heart by Sharon Corcoran

If the heart can pay attention

in wordless listening,

through its steady throbbing, pumping,

gathering and pouring forth

blue to red and back again

and with its magnetic field

that spreads six feet in all directions,

waving like a ray’s wings

or rippling, gauze curtain in a breeze—

could it be that the heart’s attention

is more than electricity and muscle,

but embraces all the worlds in body

and in mind,

and the valentines are true,

and love quickens the heart’s rhythm,

and love propels its drumming,

is the voice behind its constant, wordless call?

QUOTE(S):  "Love is the sea where intellect drowns." ~ Rumi

"The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them." ~ Thomas Merton

Counting Stars (OneRepublic)

Today is Thursday, November 5, and we are on Day 3 of election results.  Current electoral vote count is Joe Biden 264, Donald Trump 214.  Still too early/close to call are Georgia, Nevada, North Carolina, Pennsylvania.  So many memes (huge thanks to Melanie, Nicole, and Rob), so little time! But let's go back 48 hours...

I went to bed at midnight Tuesday (when they were clear it would taken another few days to count the Michigan and Wisconsin votes)...

...and woke at 6:45 a.m.  To quote Dorothy Parker:  "What fresh hell is this?".  Polls were crazy unreliable, seemed there would be a Republican Senate, and Trump thinks he won this election.

I would have usually been on the balcony sipping coffee, but stayed inside in front of the TV, gulping my Morning Joe, the beverage as well as the MSNBC show... and Steve Kornacki was still rockin' the big board.  This was not the resounding rebuke I expected for the Worst. President. Ever!

Went out walking and couldn't go fast nor far enough to get out of my own head.  Added a new 15-minute loop to get me up to an hour, which I will keep in.  Passed a car in my condo complex that had a Rambo-like Trump flag, and it was all I could do to keep my suburban-housewife-self from clambering on the hood and ripping it off.  Then I eventually wound up home (because I had a library pick-up at 11), called on The Women (above) to get us to 270.  Tuned in to Rachel and Company a few more times; she used the word "grok" on Election Night, and my heart skipped a beat.

It is ridiculous that Trump is filing lawsuits already when the election results are not even final yet.  That is the action/reaction of a man who knows he has lost, grasping at straws.  Also, Twitter and Facebook flagged his recent posts as untrue.

I remain confident, and will not be swayed from my Pollyanna ways.  I understand the reality of the situation, but I refuse to live in fear; I choose to visualize peace and justice.  You can do this, Nevada... and Georgia... and maybe even Pennsylvania!

Went out walking again today and got thoroughly rained on, did a few hours of housecleaning, will start a new book (below), and look forward to a Zoom call at 4:30 with Nancy and Judi.  

Joe Biden gave a speech on November 4 to address the ongoing election counts. He said: “It’s clear that we’re winning enough states to reach 270 electoral votes needed to win the presidency.” Read the transcript of his remarks here.  I will continue to wait patiently, hope for the best, Keep the Faith, and remain an Eternal Optimist... 😍

NR:  Pretty Things by Janelle Brown

SONG:  Counting Stars by OneRepublic

BOOK:  Undaunted Optimist: Essays on Life, Laughter and Cheerful Perseverance by Chris Rodell

POEM:  The Last Thing by Ada Limón

First there was the blue wing

of a scraggly loud jay tucked

into the shrubs. Then the bluish-

black moth drunkenly tripping

from blade to blade. Then

the quiet that came roaring

in like the R. J. Corman over

Broadway near the RV shop.

These are the last three things

that happened. Not in the universe,

but here, in the basin of my mind,

where I’m always making a list

for you, recording the day’s minor

urchins: silvery dust mote, pistachio

shell, the dog eating a sugar

snap pea. It’s going to rain soon,

close clouds bloated above us,

the air like a net about to release

all the caught fishes, a storm

siren in the distance. I know

you don’t always understand,

but let me point to the first

wet drops landing on the stones,

the noise like fingers drumming

the skin. I can’t help it. I will

never get over making everything

such a big deal.

QUOTE:  "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.  When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.  Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn't make any sense." ~ Rumi

Beautiful World of Mine (Eliza Gilkyson)

Today is Easter Sunday.  I am not necessarily a proponent of the religious aspect, but I do appreciate the metaphor of rebirth, renewal, and resurrection... a bit odd in that this virus has most of us in hibernation mode, and our Spring may not come until late-summer.

However, rituals are touchstones and our sweet Sarah is embracing the holiday, especially because Colin is at an age to really appreciate.  Yesterday they dyed eggs, she put together an Easter basket for him, and she even made a bunny cake, traditional in our family for decades, beginning with my mom, segueing to me, and now Sarah.  My mom would actually pluck straws from her broom for the whiskers, I used bamboo skewers, and Sarah creatively came up with licorice Twizzlers.  Would have loved to be the proverbial fly on the wall when Colin first saw it!

They, and the boys, will come over about 10 am, and we will do a social distancing egg hunt, followed by bubbles (blowing as well as popping!), playing on the golf course green (which Colin thinks is his own private sandbox), and using sticks to draw in the sandy path.

Not bad for Plan Q...  :-)

P.S.  A few hours after I initially posted.  Our kiddo with his basket of eggs.  HEART!!!

SONG:  Beautiful World of Mine by Eliza Gilkyson

BOOK:  A New Beginning: Celebrating the Spring Equinox by Wendy Pfeffer, Linda Bleck (Illustrator)

POEM:  The Way Wings Should by Rumi

What will
our children do in the morning?
Will they wake with their hearts wanting to play,
the way wings
should?

Will they have dreamed the needed flights and gathered
the strength from the planets that all men and women need to balance
the wonderful charms of
the earth

so that her power and beauty does not make us forget our own?

I know all about the ways of the heart - how it wants to be alive.

Love so needs to love
that it will endure almost anything, even abuse,
just to flicker for a moment. But the sky's mouth is kind,
its song will never hurt you, for I
sing those words.

What will our children do in the morning
if they do not see us
fly?

QUOTE:  "The care of the Earth is our most ancient and most worthy, and after all our most pleasing responsibility. To cherish what remains of it and to foster its renewal is our only hope." ~ Wendell Berry

Lungs (Townes Van Zandt)

Below is a note I just wrote to The Connie Circle, an e-mail distribution I've spoken of before (consisting of me, my sister, my daughter, and three of Mom's neighbors/friends), which I set up to keep us all in the loop after I returned last January - I also added my husband and two sons to this one, so they can be apprised of information/progress...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sent: Tue, 26 May 2009 2:32 pm
Subject: Connie Circle update - 5/26/09 - looooong (sorry!)...

Hey, All (and I've added C, R and E to our loop) -

As everyone knows, I've been here since mid-Tuesday (5/19)... so today makes one week I've had to observe 24/7 what's happening with mom - crazy enough, when I made my reservations, it was just supposed to be a "routine" visit... but it didn't take long to realize my timing was intuitively perfect...

Mom has obviously declined since I last saw her late-January... but I've even noticed a downturn since my arrival - you all know it is terrifying to watch her struggle for breath, especially when motivating to the bathroom or bedroom... but even sometimes just sitting still. She needs more oxygen, which seems to be less effective - no wonder she doesn't want to leave the comfort zone of her corner of the couch...

~ One thing I feel *very* good about is dealing with H-T (the oxygen company) this morning - they had been promising her extra cannulas (the high-flow breathing tubing) for weeks and still hadn't delivered. I left a message with their answering service over the weekend to escalate... and then called the office itself this morning - spoke with A, who was extremely helpful, and sent back the two techs who were here Friday...

Long story short (I'm trying!): on A's recommendation, they switched out the longer (40 ft.) thinner line for the shorter (25 ft.) thicker (high flow) line - we had problems over the weekend, and mom asked me to turn up her oxygen. I had the dial *as far as it would go* and it was still only registering 9 (very scary) rather than the 10 it is supposed to go up to - now, the machine is accurately reflecting her oxygen flow and I/we feel 9 is a *true* 9 (whew)...

Also, mom told me that someone (she doesn't recall who) told her that the cannula and the humidifier should be changed out every *month* - as I questioned H-T, all are saying they should be changed out every *week*. Of course that's going to make a difference, since her nasal connection gets clogged up with mucus/blood/etc. - we will now make a point to change out both each Monday...

Also, since Mom had a problem with the portable tanks when we went out for R's birthday (they only go up to 6), she asked me to ask A if they could just take those away, as well as remove the Helios portable tank we used to fill them. A said that big tank can be used as a back-up in case of a power outage (who knew?!?)... and they not only moved it into the futon room, but equipped it with a 25 ft. high flow line, a humidifier and a cannula such that, should she lose power, all she (or someone) has to do is make it to that room, put on that cannula and turn it up to 10 (it jumps from 8 to 10, skipping over 9)...

This has all gone a long way toward giving mom (and me) peace of mind regarding her oxygen, which makes her breathe easier (literally and metaphorically) - whew...

~ Her ankles started swelling yesterday afternoon when everyone was here, because she was sitting up more than usual (with her feet on the ground) - she took one of her Fluorsomething? (Lasix substitute) pills last night and, after calling Dr. G's (kidney doctor) office, again this morning, making sure to eat some potassium after (as per instructions)...

~ After her difficulties yesterday, I remembered she had 3 Ventolin inhalers (1 in her medicine tray and 2 in the cabinet), which she had told me her doctor said she didn't need anymore - I brought one to her in the bathroom and a few puffs actually helped her make it back to the couch less winded. So... I've stationed them throughout the house (next to the couch, in the bathroom drawer, next to her bed), which she can use 4 times a day as an assistance/auxiliary...

~ R had bought mom some saline spray when I was here back in January, and she really hasn't been using it - so... we are now on a track of trying to use it a few times a day to flush/irrigate/moisturize her nasal passages (very helpful)...

~ I also *slathered* her legs with Eucerin lotion I bought at Publix - they were so dry, and just soaked up the moisture (and I'll continue to do it daily or as needed)...

~ She is *loving* the Depends, which I had suggested to her the other day and R continued the discussion and then picked them up while I was at Mari's (thanks, R!) - it also lessens anxiety about accidents, etc.

~ I tried calling Dr. E's (her pulmonologist) office to start proceedings for a home hospice analysis, which just means we see what they have to offer but don't necessarily have to start anything right now - it also doesn't necessarily mean 24- or 48-hours, but can extend for months. I stayed up until 4 a.m. reading (thanks, C, for the great books from Legacy Link!) and everything indicates (which we knew) sooner rather than later - they offer so many services/resources and I personally feel it's time. They were out to lunch and, given all the phone calls/mom-attending in the last hour and a half, I wanted to finish this e-mail and then give them a call back - at that point, it sounds as if they will send someone out to determine her needs/status (more peace of mind, right?)...

~ Can't say enough to all (A, M, S and B so far today) about your check-in phone calls - she treasures hearing from you... <3

I am very concerned (as I know we all are) and am attempting to stay calm... but inside I feel helpless and panicked (as I'm sure everyone has been feeling all these many months) - I know our goal is to "make her comfortable", not in a "sounds like the end" way that freaks B out... but in a "making the most of her days" sense...

It's all about intuition, abundance, self-empowerment, honesty, knowledge and, most importantly, love - we're moving forward...

SONG: Lungs by Townes Van Zandt

BOOK: The Official Patient's Sourcebook on Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis by James N. Parker

POEM: That Lives in Us by Rumi

If you put your hands on this oar with me,
they will never harm another, and they will come to find
they hold everything you want.

If you put your hands on this oar with me, they would no longer
lift anything to your
mouth that might wound your precious land -
that sacred earth that is your body.

If you put your soul against this oar with me,
the power that made the universe will enter your sinew
from a source not outside your limbs, but from a holy realm
that lives in us.

Exuberant is existence, time a husk.
When the moment cracks open, ecstasy leaps out and devours
space;
love goes mad with the blessings, like my words give.

Why lay yourself on the torturer's rack of the past and the future?
The mind that tries to shape tomorrow beyond its capacities
will find no rest.

Be kind to yourself, dear - to our innocent follies.
Forget any sounds or touch you knew that did not help you dance.
You will come to see that all evolves us.

QUOTE: "Inhale, and God approaches you. Hold the inhalation, and God remains with you. Exhale, and you approach God. Hold the exhalation, and surrender to God." ~ Krishnamacharya

Que Hago Ahora? (Silvio Rodriguez)

From today's Writer's Almanac:

Today is Cinco de Mayo, which celebrates Mexico's defeat of French invaders at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. Cinco de Mayo has actually become a bigger holiday in the United States than in Mexico, where it is mostly a regional holiday in Puebla. There are large Cinco de Mayo celebrations - with parades, music, and food - in Los Angeles, Denver, Portland, St. Paul, and other cities across the country.

Cinco de Mayo... a.k.a. Day One again... a.k.a. Carpe Diem Uno - how many Day Ones will it take to recalibrate my brain and realign my focus and reprioritize my habits? (oh f*cking my!)...

I've been sliding right back into To Do List mode, and am suffering these days from Exploding Brain Syndrome - I'm behind in my concert series PR, still haven't gotten out this month's folk club newsletter, have to do some major research/legwork for some caregiving services for my ever-worsening mom, have been virtually non-existent to dear M whose mom passed away a few months ago, my friend A just got out of the hospital (open heart surgery) and I've yet to deliver the food I promised, R moved out and E moved back from college and the transition of furniture, etc. is exhausting... and the beat goes on. All of these equally-important but hard-to-keep-up-with responsibilities have thrown me into a panic - I feel woefully inadequate these days and unable to keep up... as a professional, as a daughter, as a friend...

MH called to ask me to walk this morning, which helped tremendously... and we've already planned to do it again tomorrow - I need to get back on the proverbial horse that threw me. If only good intentions translated to daily life - however, the reality is that follow-through is key... and I just have to figure out ways of doing things differently...

In the meantime, I'm trying to operate from a place of love - it's grounding, fueling and ultimately, despite the cliche, all you need...

SONG: Que Hago Ahora? by Silvio Rodriguez (English translation here)

BOOK: Cinco de Mayo: What Is Everybody Celebrating? by Donald W. Miles

POEM: Begin by Rumi

This is now. Now is,

all there is. Don't wait for Then;

strike the spark, light the fire.

Sit at the Beloved's table,

feast with gusto, drink your fill

then dance

the way branches

of jasmine and cypress

dance in a spring wind.

The green earth

is your cloth;

tailor your robe

with dignity and grace.

QUOTE: "Every beginning is a consequence - every beginning ends some thing." ~ Paul Valery

Shiny Happy People (R.E.M.)

From Thursday's TUT (Totally Unique Thoughts):

Simply imagine happiness, Susan, your own happiness. Feel the smile stretching across your face, notice the lightness in your step, hear the sparkle in your voice, and all things, material and spiritual, will dance to the beat of your drums.

Happy Thursday! The Universe

You smiled didn't you, Susan? Just be careful with those sparkles so close to the drums.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been working on this blog entry for days, but keep getting distracted (look, something shiny!) - I'm still in "full plate" mode, feeling as if I'm doing lots of things poorly.

However, one thing I *do* excel at is The Power of Positive Thinking - when a friend sent me the above video, I knew it was the jumping-off place for a future post (and here we are) - wish I had the time/energy to add more of my own words... but I'll just ask you to read between the lines... :-)

P.S. SMM here, here, here, here and here...

SONG: Shiny Happy People by R.E.M.

BOOK: Happy for No Reason: 7 Steps to Being Happy from the Inside Out by Marci Shimoff

POEM: The Guest House by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

QUOTE(S): " A happy person is not a person in a certain set of circumstances, but rather a person with a certain set of attitudes." ~ Hugh Downs

"I have found that if you love life, life will love you back." ~ Arthur Rubinstein

"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily. "So it is." "And freezing." "Is it?" "Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately." ~ A.A. Milne

Two Hearts (Bruce Springsteen)

Dedicated to The One I Love - thanks, honey (he calls me sweetie) for hanging in there with me all these many years... :-)

P.S. SMM...

P.P.S. Check out Google's logo for today... :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DailyOM
February 6, 2009
The Dance of Intimacy
Coming Back to Center in a Relationship

Anyone in a long-term relationship knows that the dance of intimacy involves coming together and moving apart. Early in a relationship, intense periods of closeness are important in order to establish the ground of a new union. Just as a sapling needs a lot more attention than a full-grown tree, budding relationships demand time and attention if they are to fully take root. Once they become more established, the individuals in the union begin to turn their attention outward again, to the other parts of their lives that matter, such as work, family, and friendships. This is natural and healthy. Yet, if a long-term relationship is to last, turning towards one another recurrently, with the same curiosity, attention, and nurturance of earlier times, is essential.

In a busy and demanding world full of obligations and opportunities, we sometimes lose track of our primary relationships, thinking they will tend to themselves. We may have the best intentions when we think about how nice it would be to surprise our partner with a gift or establish a weekly date night. Yet somehow, life gets in the way. We may think that our love is strong enough to survive without attention. Yet even mature trees need water and care if they are to thrive.

One of the best ways to nourish a relationship is through communication. If you feel that a distance has grown between you and your partner, you may be able to bridge the gap by sharing how you feel. Do your best to avoid blame and regret. Focus instead on the positive, which is the fact that you want to grow closer together. Sometimes, just acknowledging that there is distance between you has the effect of bringing the relationship into balance. In other cases, more intense effort and attention may be required. You may want to set aside time to talk and come up with solutions together. Remember to have compassion for each other. You’re in the same boat together and trying to maintain the right balance of space and togetherness to keep your relationship healthy and thriving. Express faith and confidence in each other, and enjoy the slow dance of intimacy that can resume between the two of you.

SONG: Two Hearts by Bruce Springsteen

BOOK: Four Letter Word: Invented Correspondence from the Edge of Modern Romance by Joshua Knelman, Rosalind Porter (editors)

POEM: LXXXIX by Pablo Neruda

When I die, I want your hands on my eyes:
I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands
to pass their freshness over me once more:
I want to feel the softness that changed my destiny.

I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep.
I want your ears still to hear the wind, I want you
to sniff the sea's aroma that we loved together,
to continue to walk on the sand we walk on.

I want what I love to continue to live,
and you whom I love and sang above everything else
to continue to flourish, full-flowered:

so that you can reach everything my love directs you to,
so that my shadow can travel along in your hair,
so that everything can learn the reason for my song.

QUOTE: "Love is the way messengers from the mystery tell us things." ~ Rumi

If Children Had Wings (Gordon Lightfoot)

What with Eric home from college this week for Spring Break... and Sarah moved out two weeks ago, we've not yet had a chance to get us all under one roof/around one table as is our modus operandi - that will be rectified this evening, as we're planning a family dinner. We're not yet decided whether we'll go out to a restaurant or stay in with me cooking - I'm on the record as voting for the former... :-)

Always a treat to have all five of us together - should be entertaining and educational and enriching, oh my!

SONG: If Children Had Wings by Gordon Lightfoot

BOOK: The Mommy Manual: Planting Roots That Give Your Children Wings by Barbara Curtis

POEM: The Way Wings Should by Rumi

What will

our children do in the morning?

Will they wake with their hearts wanting to play,

the way wings

should?

Will they have dreamed the needed flights and gathered

the strength from the planets that all men and women need to balance

the wonderful charms of

the earth

so that her power and beauty does not make us forget our own?

I know all about the ways of the heart - how it wants to be alive.

Love so needs to love

that it will endure almost anything, even abuse,

just to flicker for a moment. But the sky's mouth is kind,

its song will never hurt you, for I

sing those words.

What will our children do in the morning

if they do not see us

fly?

QUOTE: "There are two lasting bequests we can give our children. One is roots. The other is wings." ~ Hodding Carter, Jr.

Vinyl Records (Todd Snider)

Reprinted from the LefsetzLetter, albeit belatedly - then again, this essay is timeless. This is me, this is so f*cking me (the music more than the internet part) - no apologies...

September 21, 2007

You Can't Stop the Music!

Bob Lefsetz

I had to turn on my computer for this.

Fuck heroin. That's nothing compared to an Internet addiction. I can't get off this fucking machine. Right through this 23" HD screen is a whole world, updated faster than word of mouth. Everything from explosions to sex, it's right here on the Internet.

I tell myself that I'm gonna fight it. And then I walk in the door and even though all my e-mail has been forwarded to my BlackBerry I can't fight the pull, I have to wake my Mac up, I have to see what's GOING ON!

And this is hell if you ever want to fall asleep.

I don't sleep so well to begin with. And falling asleep? Almost impossible. If I waited until I was tired I'd be up twenty two hours a day, eventually working my way around the clock a la Frank Zappa. So, this week I've been experimenting with shutting down. It's one thing to hit the keys and wake my computer up. But to FIRE IT UP! That's a whole 'nother level. I've got enough willpower to resist. At least I thought I did. But I've just broken down. Because I heard the MOST AMAZING SONG ON THE RADIO!

Sure, we hate the commercials. But we lament more the loss of the deejays. Those who were music fans, picking the tunes, as opposed to liner note readers or multi-job wannabe Dick Clarks like Ryan Seacrest. Someone who was just as into music as we were. Who guided us and reminded us we were on the same team.

There's a new deejay on XM's Deep Tracks. And like all the great deejays of the past, he pulls the graveyard shift. When only the diehards, those who dearly need the hit, are paying attention. When I hear the same country songs over and over again and feel my head will explode and it's around midnight I dial in Deep Tracks to hear what Greg Gillispie is playing.

Earlier this evening he spun Genesis' "Supper's Ready". Cool, but a Gabriel era fave. But, as I'm sitting in front of my XM boom box, tapping out responses on my BlackBerry, a song comes out of the speakers that I've NEVER heard on the radio. That maybe has never been spun on the radio EVER! The very last song from the Kinks' "Preservation Act 2", "You Can't Stop The Music".

This is where my Ray Davies fascination began. Oh, I knew all the sixties hits. Had a greatest hits album. Even bought "Arthur" and "Lola". Even went to my friend Andy's dorm room to listen to "Celluloid Heroes". But what made me believe that Ray was truly one of the greats was "Preservation Act 2".

I read about it in "Creem". And maybe "Zoo World". The reviews said it was special. Better than "Act 1". Which, of course, I eventually bought, but had passed on at this point.

I drove to Westport and bought that double-pack and came home and dropped the needle on an EXTRAVAGANZA! A whole PLAY! With characters and a story and some absolutely incredible songs, like "Money Talks".

I quote it constantly...

"Show me a man who says he can live without bread

And I'll show you a man who's a liar and in debt"

Oh, it goes on from there. All about mazuma. The money culture we live in. With a great GROOVE!

And there's "Shepherds Of The Nation" and "He's Evil".

Wait a minute. I'VE MADE A MISTAKE! "You Can't Stop The Music" isn't from "Preservation Act 2" AT ALL! That ends with the equally great "Salvation Road". "You Can't Stop The Music" is from the FOLLOW-UP! "Soap Opera"!

But fuck, you probably don't know any of these tracks. None of them were hits. The Kinks were in teenage wasteland, otherwise known as RCA Records. Only when they switched to Arista did Clive Davis bring them back from the brink, turn them into an arena act. Which was almost impossible to believe. But then they moved on, and were forgotten all over again. (I could explain how Clive and Arista were different back then. But that's a different letter.)

I haven't missed a Kinks album since. Probably the best after "Preservation Act 2" is "Misfits", with "A Rock 'N' Roll Fantasy" (NO, not the Bad Company track!) The story of my life.

But tonight we're talking about the best track, the final track from a truly mediocre album. Ray Davies was deep in his Broadwayesque phase. It was the album after this that he started to regain his footing, "Schoolboys In Disgrace".

Let me go back to "A Rock 'N' Roll Fantasy":

"There's a guy in my block, he lives for rock

He plays records day and night

And when he feels down he puts some rock 'n' roll on

And it makes him feel alright

And when he feels the world is closing in

He turns his stereo way up high"

If this isn't you, you can stop reading right now. Quit your job in the industry. You might as well be deaf. I'm only interested in believers. You know how Volkswagen says DRIVERS WANTED! I only want LISTENERS!

Are you a listener? Does the right track change your mood? Can you be happy just listening to a record, needing no video game, no penetration, no other diversion? Did you ever sacrifice dinner to buy a record? Did you ever line up to buy a concert ticket? Did you ever try to convince your MOTHER of the greatness of an act? Then you're on my team.

"Let's all raise a glass

To the rock stars of the past

Those that made it

Those that faded

Those that never even made the grade

Those that we thought would never last"

Rachel Sweet. I bought her album, it was on Stiff. Did you?

How about Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas? Or Peter & Gordon?

Did you really think Elton was for the ages when you heard "Your Song"? Did you think U2 would still be playing the Garden? Even you. Admit it, YOU picked up the guitar. Or maybe you played the drums, driving your parents crazy. You just needed to be closer.

"Singers come and go

And stars fade away

They vanish in the haze

And they're never seen again

But the music just keeps playing on"

I've got thousands of vinyl records in my house. Parting with them would be like giving away a child. I need them. They're the history of my life. You may not know them, but I'm familiar with each and every one. I hand-picked them. Played them over and over until I loved them. I went to college, but I learned more listening to records.

"I've been half a million places

I've seen half a million people who stare

I've been a star and down and out

I've been put on, sat on, punched and spat on

They've called me a faggot, a spiv and a fake

They can knock me down and tread on my face

They can't stop the music playing on"

It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock and roll. And it's almost impossible to stay at the top. How do you cope when the crowd no longer cares, has forgotten your triumphs, what do you do when the radio station says NEXT!

You don't give up. Not if you've really got it. And talent is only fifty percent. The rest is made up of pure determination, pure desire. These are our rock stars. This is Ray Davies. And we love him for it.

The music keeps playing on. Despite Lyor Cohen's shenanigans. Despite "Hits"' vendetta against him, angry that he won't cough up some dough. Despite high CD prices, RIAA lawsuits and TicketMaster fees. People need to make it, we need to hear it. They usually get it wrong, but when they get it right, IT CHANGES OUR WHOLE LIFE!

I was thinking about getting up early, about winding down, but ONE TRACK ON THE RADIO CHANGED MY LIFE!

SONG: Vinyl Records by Todd Snider

BOOK: Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain by Oliver Sacks

POEM(S): by Rumi

Don't worry about saving these songs!

And if one of our instruments breaks,

it doesn't matter.

We have fallen into the place

where everything is music.

The strumming and the flute notes

rise into the atmosphere,

and even if the whole world's harp

should burn up, there will still be

hidden instruments playing.

So the candle flickers and goes out.

We have a piece of flint, and a spark.

This singing art is sea foam.

The graceful movements come from a pearl

somewhere on the ocean floor.

Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge

of driftwood along the beach, wanting!

They derive

from a slow and powerful root

that we can't see.

Stop the words now.

Open the window in the center of your chest,

and let the spirits fly in and out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today, llike every day,

we wake up hollow and frightened.

Don't open the door to the study

and begin reading.

Reach for a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways

to kneel and kiss the ground.

QUOTE: "To hell with reality! I want to die in music, not in reason or in prose. People don't deserve the restraint we show by not going into delirium in front of them. To hell with them!" ~ Louis-Ferdinand Celine