I wrote this last Sunday
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| Watching digitized 1992 Will |
Will loved this song. He loved Americana and played the Ken Burns' Civil War soundtrack often for a few years after we watched it. I know he would not like or does not like how sad I remain. Perhaps this technical difficulty was him speaking to me once more. That's how I felt when I heard it.
Dear Will:
We didn’t move in 2014 because you had developed dementia and it would have further damaged you.
I haven’t had the energy to move since you died. I may never have the energy, as much as I dislike Bend and don’t like to think about dying there. So I’ve been on a trip looking at the valley, thinking about whether or not I want to move over here. I made half assed preparations for this trip and have had a bit of a half-assed time, but I for sure figured out that I don’t want to move to Corvallis.
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| Three Ladies from The Magic Flute |
My grief is much more manageable, though I’ve been crying at odd times. When I dropped in on Steve and Kate I cried on the way up their gravel driveway because you were with me the last time I saw them.
I still get frustrated too quickly and get angry and irritated when things don’t go my way. I need to work harder on chilling out.
Love you always,
Kake
Our friend Marion is sure that she's going to be visiting spirits with our friend Lorna soon. Lorna is for sure dying and Marion feels it as her Parkinsons is getting more difficult to manage.
On Sunday I brought a collections of pictures of you to share with her. It was good talking about you with the only other person here who really knew you, at least as far as it was possible to know the Cat Who Walked By Himself (and all people and places were alike to him.)
I still miss you every day but the grief is lighter, softer, and not quite so physical.
Kake
Dear Will --
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| from abc news |
Anyway, that's pretty interesting to me, the pope born in Chicago. I know you had in life a bit of a bias against "popery".
I hope he keeps the late Francis' commitment to social justice and love.
I must admit I love the drama and pageantry of the catholic tradition. I also love the postmodern touch of bishops wearing their long, black cassocks in the courtyards, looking at their phones. I had my eyes on the live feed during the book club discussion this morning.
I've been listening to a book called Let Them -- recommended to me by two folks at church. It doesn't tell me anything I didn't already know but that I have forgotten during dementia-care and widowhood. It's a mix of stoicism, zen, and pop psychology. The author tells a story early on that convict me -- about getting upset at friends not connecting with her and being driven crazy by seeing social media posts of a friend group on a trip "without me." At the time she was very sad. But later, when she wrote the book, after applying what she calls the "let them theory," she sees the role she plays in her own unhappiness. The greatest unhappiness comes from wanting life to be different than it is. The Buddha would say suffering is a result of desire. End desire, especially the desire for things to be different than they are, and you end unhappiness. That's the concept, anyway. And the book is all about that -- letting people do and be who they are. I knew all this when I taught and I was very able to be quite detached from what students thought of me.
Your decline and death, however, kind of broke my ability to manage my emotions, even though I taught for 30 years about managing emotions. Sigh.
But things are getting better. The book is a good reminder for me. And I'm getting more skilled at getting along in the world without needing to control everything around me.
The book is helpful with new-to-me info on adult friendships -- which I really didn't think much about until I retired. And then I let my focus first on my "new work" - as a celebrant - and then my focus on you captured my limited ability to hang with people. Also it's what every fucking therapist has told me - that I need to "rescue myself" (with God's help, I always add).
You've told me through mediums to choose to be happy. It's been hard until recently. I still miss you. I still grieve. But I'm also getting better at being happy around other people.
As long as there aren't too many of them all at once.
Love,
Kake
we are in death. "A truer word was never said," continues Sabina, who I'll always see as Adrianne Davidson, who performed the role of the Eternal Other Woman in our high school production of The Skin of Our Teeth, a much shortened version of the too-long original play by Thornton Wilder. Although Wikipedia has forced me to pause for a moment as I fantasize about the 1942 Broadway version with Miss Tallulah Bankhead as Sabina, Frederick March as George Antrobus, and Montgomery Clift as Henry.
I quoted this line from the Book of Common Prayer (service for the dead) during our 8am zoomy sermon discussion group. These folks are such a saving grace for me. Anyway, we're all old. I'm second youngest. We had a great discussion circling around Gaye Lawson's sermon on fear and hope (bouncing off the Gospel reading, John 19-31). Part of the discussion was around death as we talked about a group member's learning that his senior living facility refuses to put information about clients' deaths in their in-house bulletin.
Mainstream American culture deals so poorly with death.
Last year around May 4th was the last time I saw Kathy. She was very calm about her approaching demise, one that she herself controlled. As my friend Lorna is.
I will take hope and inspiration from them.
Dear Will. --
Love you,
Kake
PS: My friend David thinks I'm a bit delulu because he's such a strict materialist -- but his beloved wife is LDS so he's comfortable with loving someone who just believes.
Dear Will --
Another of our friends, more my friend, is transitioning soon - in a month or so. Maybe your souls will run into each other.
Another couple of friends have experienced a less permanent but more wrenching transition as the husband has had to enter memory care.
I didn't know when I worked on The Skin of Our Teeth in high school that Sabina was quoting a medieval chant, Media vita in morte sumus , when she says, "In the midst of life we are in death. A truer word was never said." I have quoted Sabina since then, combining this statement with her famous, "Eat your ice cream while it's on your plate, that's my philosophy."
I cried in church on Sunday during the beautiful sermon. I contributed money to the flowers this year and dedicated some to you.
As if I had a choice.
love always
kake
