I Remember Everything (John Prine)

The Beanie Twins, December 2015 I think?

I am trying to snap out of my Anger stage of grief, so today I set about conjuring some lovely remembrances of Eric:

~ He saved a kid's life when he worked at C. B. Smith water park in Pembroke Pines.

~ He was The Baby Whisperer.  There is a video, when Colin (Sarah's son) was less than a year old, and all Eric had to do was look at Colin, which elicited such contagious belly laughs... and then Colin would stare at E, and Eric would do it again, and more hilarity ensued.

~ He loved, and was good at, skateboarding.  There was a crew of friends in his neighborhood who would get together daily to practice their moves.  One of the dads built a ramp and they'd put it in the middle of the street, and then have to move it every time a car came by!

~ About five years ago, E started a new tradition.  He would give out Christmas cards to the family, and write the most beautiful sentiments in them, really speaking from the heart, telling us how much he loved us and how lucky he was to have such a great family... 💗

~ Eric was born in Puerto Rico, and has the birth certificate to prove it! 

~ Eric was a very handsome young man.  It was a running joke that many of Sarah's friends had a crush on him, and a few of mine too!  Hey, even some of his guy friends were smitten... 😍

~ He was so kind.  He was always aware of other people's feelings, and trying to make them feel better, or comforting/listening to them if they were down.  

~ In any family with three kids, there is usually a two-against-one situation, and Eric was often the One.  Ask Sarah and Rob about Hello Kitty backpack... 🐱

~ Eric was devoted to his girlfriend Duyen, meeting up with her July 23, 2021, for a coffee date in Miami.  Fast-forward almost two years later, when she graduated from UM's med school and moved to Atlanta to do her residency at Grady Hospital via Emory University; they missed each other so much that he found a job and moved up there just this past March so they could be together again.  They were good to, and for, each other.

~ He was very smart, keeping up with current events and business trends.

~ Eric would call and/or text us often, letting us know he was thinking about us.  

~ He played the guitar as well as bass, and would often sit alone in his room, noodling along to YouTube videos.  He was a huge music lover (Chico and I take pride in the fact there was always music playing in the house when our kids were growing up), and he not only adopted our Beatles and Neil Young, but developed his own personal style: traditional reggae, as well as indie bands like Passafire and Rebelution.

And speaking of remembering, I asked Duyen to set aside E's T-shirts so I could have a quilt made from them for her (just as I did with my Labyrinth Cafe and Dar Williams Ts.).  I will attempt to prepare and mail them off tomorrow (turnaround time is usually a month).

I miss my guy... 💔

SONG:  I Remember Everything by John Prine

BOOK:  Dear Memory: Letters on Writing, Silence, and Grief by Victoria Chang

POEM:  Miss you. Would like to grab that chilled tofu we love. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Do not care if  you bring only your light body. 

Would just be so happy to sit at the table

and talk about the menu. Miss you.

Wish we could bet which chilis they’ll put

on the cubes of tofu. Our favorite.

Sometimes green. Sometimes red. Roasted

we always thought. But so cold and fresh.

How did they do it? Wish you could be here

to talk about it like it was so important.

Wish you could. Watched you on the screens

as I was walking, as I was cooking. Wished you

could get out of the hospital. Can’t

bring myself to order our dish and eat it

in the car. Miss you laughing. Miss

you coming in from the cold or one

too many meetings. Laughing. I’ll order

already. I’ll order seven helpings, some

dumplings, those cold yam noodles that you

like. You can come in your light

body or skeleton or be invisible I don’t even

care. Know you have a long way to travel.

Know I don’t even know if it’s long

at all. Wish you could tell me. What

you’re reading. If you’re reading.

Miss you. I’m at the table in the back.

QUOTE(S):  “You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” ~ Anne Lamott

"Memory isn’t something that blooms, but something that bleeds internally.” ~ Victoria Chang

Don't You (Forget About Me) (Simple Minds)

Hilarious story (poking fun at myself!) to share:

I was with my grandbaby Colin all day, and most of the evening, this past Friday and, when I got home, there was a package from Books & Books in Coral Gables on my doorstep.  I opened it up, found a book I've been wanting to read but haven't yet made time for (no gift message enclosed), and smiled at the idea of someone lovingly (and anonymously) sending me a present:  a memoir (one of my favorite genres!) and from, not Amazon, but an independent bookstore, no less!

I asked around with The Usual Suspects, and no one 'fessed up.  I continued to smile at the mischief and thoughtfulness of whoever was behind this, and I called the bookstore Sunday in an attempt to track down the mysterious benefactor.  M asked me to call back the next day to follow-up with someone in their Shipping Department... which I did on Monday morning, and spoke to K, who was very nice, took down my info, and promised to call me back, which *she* did, about an hour later.

K said she was unable to find anything, but... they did recently mail out multiple copies of Lab Girl by Hope Jahren, related to a Miami Book Fair offer for The Big Read, happening this Spring... and I had a moment of Epiphany/Embarrassment.  I truly believed someone had surprised me but, in actuality, I surprised myself, having completely forgotten that I had requested a copy.  Ha ha ha ha ha!

I already owned the book and figured that, if I qualified for the free copy (you can get one, too), I'd pass it on to a friend (which I will do tomorrow when I see her... 💝

P.S.  As the title of today's blog post, I was going to use I Scare Myself (Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks) or If I Only Had a Brain (The Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz) but... I had already invoked them in past entries (and yes, I quoted the Ani DiFranco "goldfish have no memory" song lyrics in one of them, too!).  Oh f*cking well... 😃

SONG:  Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds

BOOK:  Things to Remember That I'll Probably Forget: Notebook for the Forgetful by Songbird Publications

POEM:  Memory by Conchitina Cruz

I can't remember his name

but I recall the way he didn't

forget things easily -- what dress I wore

to class three days ago, phone numbers of rooms

for rent on bulletin boards, the crops

of local regions we're made to memorize

in grade four. I never asked him

if he meant to keep these memories he had

no use for, and by choice or not, if he thought it a burden,

his power to remember

and remember well. After all, it meant too

that he always knew the right formulas to use

in exams, and if he forgot (which he never did),

he had all these other alternatives

in mind. I never did bother to wonder

if it was this same sharp memory that made

him know his losses well, from his missing pen

down to the girlfriend who left him, whom he spoke of

in few words but mentioned often.

As for me, I just long for the day when I need

not bluff my way out of a conversation

with -- what's his name? -- an acquaintance

from college, perhaps, or a regular

in my favorite restaurant. If there's one thing

I'm bound never to forget, it's how it feels

to wonder, once I'm out of the house,

if I was able to turn all the lights off, or worry

that I didn't unplug the iron. I've said hello

to actors down the street without being sure

who they are, certain only that their faces

seem familiar. It doesn't even dawn on me

until much later that I'm acquainted

with their nonexistent selves, their characters

in movies I've seen, the titles of which,

well, I can't seem to remember.

I think of the one who sat next

to me in Physics class, the one I envied so,

and I realize I might not even recognize

him if we see each other

now. I wonder who, between us,

is luckier: is it he, with all his recollections

and no way out

of his memory, or is it me, with my guilt

as I gaze at the past,

growing anonymous behind me?

QUOTE:  "Time moves in one direction, memory in another." ~ William Gibson

I've Just Seen a Face (The Beatles)

My friend request message, sent over the last day and a half: "It's officially The Apocalypse - I've joined Facebook!" - loosely translated: "What in the f*ck did I just do?!?" I finally signed up so that I could view my daughter's Europe pictures and live vicariously through her experience - I never envisioned quite such a headfirst tumble down the rabbit hole...

I have been fighting Facebook kicking and screaming for years - my main defense/objection has been... if I can't keep up with the "real people" in my life (and I'm always in overwhelmed mode), how in the world can I made the time to connect/reconnect with friends all over the country/world... not to mention acquaintances from my past?

I have a MySpace account (begun in December 2007) but, really, it's in the name of my concert series - it isn't about me personally at all, but rather a good PR tool to promote, and keep up with, the music...

I also have this blog, started in May 2007 - I use it as a journal/scrapbook/exercise in creativity. I'd like to post more often but seem to lose track of time - comments from readers (what readers?) are immaterial to me, as I'm really just downloading what's in my heart/brain/soul at the moment...

But Facebook? - in my less-than-48-hours experience with the social network, I have learned that it is truly In Your (or My) Face! It has been a pendulum from fun to frightening and back again... as I vowed to start out slow... which snowballed into "just one more" (friend, that is) - it's exhilarating to read all the repeated "welcome" messages (makes me think of Dar's "we're so glad that you finally made it here" lyric)... but it's exhausting to consider the effort it takes to reply and follow-up... not to mention the trepidation of opening various Pandora's Boxes...

High School? - ack! Suffice it to say, since it was 68-72, my memories are vague - I recall being high every day of my senior year, yet making the Honor Roll every quarter. I remember football games (with dances following), a handful of amazing girlfriends and being on the annual staff as well as head of props for our senior play, "The Matchmaker" - I also recall tubing down the Chattahoochee River (with a beer cooler in tow), a few special guy relationships... but also a less-than-full social calendar. I can't remember who I was back then - even more interesting, part of me is now wondering who I was in the eyes of others (in terms of The Breakfast Club... I was more Ally Sheedy than Molly Ringwald... :-)

So... although, as I said in a reply earlier today, "balance is not my strong suit", I have vowed to enjoy the experience while still motivating myself to handle all the day-to-day stuff it's easy to let slip by the proverbial wayside - I have to finish the folk club newsletter (already 4 days late), clean house tomorrow for dinner guests... and prepare for the concert I'm presenting Saturday night (not to mention catch up on various e-mails owed)...

In the meantime, though... I'm delighted at the thought of so many special people (friends and family) from all aspects of my life being in one place - it's a big-*ss cross-pollination... and I can't help but sport a broad smile across my (I should be reading a Book) Face (although I'm wary of the poke, whatever the h*ll that is... :-)

SONG: I've Just Seen a Face by The Beatles

BOOK(S): Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens Who Don't Float: Classic Lit Signs on to Facebook by Sarah Schmelling

Facebook Me! A Guide to Having Fun with Your Friends and Promoting Your Projects on Facebook by Dave Awl

POEM: Remember by Joy Harjo

Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star's stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is. I met her
in a bar once in Iowa City.
Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother's, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe. I heard her singing Kiowa war
dance songs at the corner of Fourth and Central once.
Remember that you are all people and that all people are you.
Remember that you are this universe and that this universe is you.
Remember that all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember that language comes from this.
Remember the dance that language is, that life is.
Remember.

QUOTE: “It’s surprising how much of memory is built around things unnoticed at the time.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver

If I Only Had a Brain (The Scarecrow)

One of the worst parts of getting older/menopause is failing memory - I'm so tired of re-tracing my steps to remember exactly why I came into a room/opened a closet/went outside. I've become the Queen of Post-It Notes/small spiral-bound books/scribbled lists - if I write it down somewhere, it has a better chance of surfacing later in my brain. Of course, remembering to read the notes/books/lists helps too - ack!

I used to joke that I have no memory because all my gray matter is full of song lyrics - not so funny anymore...

Speaking of... I'm fond of quoting these Ani DiFranco lines - ever since Finding Nemo came out, they now remind me of Dory... :-)

they say goldfish have no memory

i guess their lives are much like mine

the little plastic castle

is a surprise every time

SONG: If I Only Had a Brain by The Scarecrow

BOOK: The Anatomy of Memory: An Anthology by James McConkey (Editor)

POEM: Forgetfulness by Billy Collins

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses good-bye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,
something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

QUOTE: "Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory." ~ Albert Schweitzer