Saturday night I went with a good friend to see Gillian Welch at The Beacon and it was a beautiful, serene evening of sweet acoustic guitar and rich, angelic harmonies. A glorious evening to cap a brisk Autumn day. It felt so good to hear live music, adult music, gentle and soulful. I melted into my seat and took it all in. And as my eyes grazed the artfully restored theater I remembered that the last time I had been there was a few years ago. Alan wasn't well, and a friend called me with last minute back stage passes to see some blues rock performers. GO Alan insisted, he was frequently urging me to get out, be social - to divert my attention elsewhere. So I went. Flew twenty blocks South and spent an evening in the wings, being recharged by driving guitars - loud, insistent,encouraging. I felt guilty and invigorated, couldn't believe that I got to enjoy an evening that he couldn't make. The second the show ended I raced home. He was fine, and probably enjoyed the absence of my hovering shadow. Nurse Snoosie he'd call me. I took my role of friend, lover, wife, caregiver oh so seriously. Alan found my Florence Nightingale tendencies amusing.
I loved every time I got a smile or a chuckle out of him.
He helped me laugh at myself too.
Essential.
So this time around I welled up during the first set, marveling, yet again, at what time had delivered. Loss, birth and rebirth. But this time it was Lily who was at home with her beloved Tio and though I felt the guilt of leaving her there (she loves a "music show"), I was able to smile inside, knowing she was just fine - and perhaps she too was relieved to have me out of the house. She had her uncle there to love, direct, and play with. She loves him so.
Alan loved October.
It was his favorite month.
I think it was the seasonal change, the crisp air, the colors.
I like it too.
The trees shed their leaves in preparation for rest.
For reawakening.
I guess that's where I am too right now.
At my mother-in-law's wedding as Lily and her cousin plucked aging leaves from some low and vulnerable branches, her cousin said "Let's let the wind take them! Let's let the wind take them" - a good plan, I reflected.
Some things are best ushered away by the wind.
It'll all come back with Spring, redressed and refreshed.
To be seen in a new light.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
A Wedding (and a funeral)
Lily went to her first wedding this weekend, for her beloved Granny.
It was a beautiful, blustery, grey to sunny day.
A child of the new millennium, she witnessed a commemoration only recently legal.
She looked forward to it for weeks, walked flittingly down the garden path, flower basket in the crook of her arm, was all smiles for her family and friends, and was in Puck-like motion throughout the entire ceremony.
She did finally sit.
At the end of the ceremony - that is, after the glass was crushed, as everyone clapped and stood and proceeded to the grass, Lily perched on the edge of her chair.
Still exhausting, my girl.
Forever in motion.
And I missed much of it.
As a consolation, I told myself that if Alan had been there, since it was his mother, I would have offered to do the chasing anyway. But I would have also told him - this is why I wanted to bring a sitter.
Ah me. Still two hands and one heart short.
To think he missed such an important, love filled and monumental occasion.
And his grandfather just passed as well.
At 102.
Where did those genes go?
Alan should have been here.
For both.
Instead, I imagine him up above, in the air somewhere - greeting his Pop, with his dad and Gram at his side.
What a surprise he must have been.
For all of them.
Surely they all sat together and watched approvingly from above.
In that "otherworld" where I envision them all to be, I always imagine their spirits can only feel great happiness and joy. Sadness and disappointment are felt but not to any great depth - they are fleetingly felt and then shed; a brief grey wash and then the warmer colors take over. Pain is no longer a burden, they only see the positive side of things. It helps me to temper my own sadness, to keep a level perspective.
Must have been the palette on Saturday.
Whitewash giving way to golden glow.
It was a beautiful, blustery, grey to sunny day.
A child of the new millennium, she witnessed a commemoration only recently legal.
She looked forward to it for weeks, walked flittingly down the garden path, flower basket in the crook of her arm, was all smiles for her family and friends, and was in Puck-like motion throughout the entire ceremony.
She did finally sit.
At the end of the ceremony - that is, after the glass was crushed, as everyone clapped and stood and proceeded to the grass, Lily perched on the edge of her chair.
Still exhausting, my girl.
Forever in motion.
And I missed much of it.
As a consolation, I told myself that if Alan had been there, since it was his mother, I would have offered to do the chasing anyway. But I would have also told him - this is why I wanted to bring a sitter.
Ah me. Still two hands and one heart short.
To think he missed such an important, love filled and monumental occasion.
And his grandfather just passed as well.
At 102.
Where did those genes go?
Alan should have been here.
For both.
Instead, I imagine him up above, in the air somewhere - greeting his Pop, with his dad and Gram at his side.
What a surprise he must have been.
For all of them.
Surely they all sat together and watched approvingly from above.
In that "otherworld" where I envision them all to be, I always imagine their spirits can only feel great happiness and joy. Sadness and disappointment are felt but not to any great depth - they are fleetingly felt and then shed; a brief grey wash and then the warmer colors take over. Pain is no longer a burden, they only see the positive side of things. It helps me to temper my own sadness, to keep a level perspective.
Must have been the palette on Saturday.
Whitewash giving way to golden glow.
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