Thursday, October 12, 2006

A Beautiful Goodbye?

When I see you now 
I wonder how
I could've watched you walk away
If I let you down
Please forgive me now

For that beautiful goodbye
I have a dream hangover this morning. I had that dream again. As always, my brother has returned. But this time it was different, it seemed extremely real – maybe it’s what you call wishful dreaming. I was in the living room watching a movie, a bottle of wine in my hand – the doorbell rings – Ray goes to see who it is – he says it is my sister – I say I’m watching a movie. She walks in – with Alex – I drop the bottle – I fall to my knees – and start crying – it’s real this time it’s real isn’t it – I ask Ray – this isn’t a dream this time is it – I go to hug Alex – yes, it’s real this time, not a dream. He seems to say something about what it took to get here. He is tall and slim and healthy – unblemished - clean. And this morning it reminds me of the passage in the Bible (or psalm or something), on speaking of those that die, that they become restored to their former self – healthy and whole. The jolt from dream to reality seems stronger each time, more and more the dream feels real….is it a message or a sign, that all is well – he is whole again, and free? I wish I knew for sure - this dark cloud still hangs heavily over me.....
Fed up with my destiny
And this place of no return
Think I'll take another day
And slowly watch it burn
It doesn't really matter how the time goes by
Cause I still remember you and I
And that beautiful goodbye
We staggered through these empty streets 
Laughing arm in arm
The night had made a mess of me
Your confession kept me warm
And I don't really miss you, I just need to know
Do you ever think of you and I
And that beautiful goodbye
When I see you now 
I wonder how
I could've watched you walk away
If I let you down
Please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye
In these days of no regrets 
I keep mine to myself
And all the things we never said
I can say for someone else
Cause nothing lasts forever, but we always try
And I just can't help but wonder why
We let it pass us by
When I see you now 
I wonder how
I could've watched you walk away
If I let you down
Please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye
(Amanda Marshall)

Monday, September 11, 2006

September 11

Signifying the power of life, signifying hope: the flower in the crannied wall (steps in this case).
Happy Birthday and lots of love to you know who, from you know who!

Monday, June 12, 2006

Sho' was hot!!

"Why Melody May," he said as he sipped his Mint Julep in the cool of the porch, "I figure standin' in the blazin' sun ain't the best place to do yer thinkin'!

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

The Upside to Anger - The Promise of Calm

The best part of this rather good movie, was this incredibly moving passage:

"People don't know how to love. They bite rather than kiss. They slap rather than stroke. Maybe it's because they recognize how easy it is for love to go bad, to become suddenly impossible... unworkable, an exercise of futility. So they avoid it and seek solace in angst, and fear, and aggression, which are always there and readily available. Or maybe sometimes... they just don't have all the facts.

Anger and resentment can stop you in your tracks. It needs nothing to burn but the air and the life that it swallows and smothers. It's real, though - the fury, even when it isn't. It can change you... turn you... mold you and shape you into something you're not. The only upside to anger, then... is the person you become. Hopefully someone that wakes up one day and realizes they're not afraid to take the journey, someone that knows that the truth is, at best, a partially told story. That anger, like growth, comes in spurts and fits, and in its wake, leaves a new chance at acceptance, and the promise of calm."

And from the movie The Hours:

"What does it mean to regret when you have no choice? It's what you can bear. And there it is... It was death. I chose life.

I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility, you know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself that this is the beginning of happiness, this
is where it starts. And of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me that it wasn't the beginning... it was happiness. It was the moment, right then. " 1Z E31 A69 68 2957 773 4

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

You Just Never Know....

Life is strange. Events, moments can be oddly connected - some days more than others. Or maybe we don't always notice - we are not always "awake". My favourite horoscope site - - had this to say today for Libra:

Something amazing is happening to you, right at this very moment. What is this wonderful process? It's the breath going in and out of your body, the blood going in and out of your heart, the light going in and out of your eyes. How can you possibly want any more than this? OK. Don't answer that. But do start, now, by stopping to appreciate the miraculous gift which is your life. Once you stop taking this for granted, you may also start to recognise other blessings and advantages that you have similarly been too close to to appreciate properly.

I work in a library and a student today asked me about types of paper. I didn't know all that much about it, so as many people do these days, I googled "types of paper", and found this site: . I was immediately drawn to the picture of the cat near the url. I love cats - I adopt strays - I have ahem (a few). And so I began to explore this site, and stopped for a long visit at the Susan section: - a touching and vivid account of a heart transplant patient, but it is so much more - so much more. I lost my brother and mother 2 years ago, and recently just before Christmas, my father passed away. I feel sad a lot of the time, and death fills my thoughts as well as thoughts about what will finally "do me in". Anyway, it was odd reading about all that happened to Susan, now over 10 years ago. But it was compelling, so I went on to read and when I finally reached Susan's tombstone, the last section - I cried. The image of the cat curled on the stone touched me so very much: .

We never know how what we say, do or write will touch others - I suppose that is one reason perhaps that so many of us keep blogs – although I doubt it is a conscious thing. For me, a few hours ago, it all started with a google search on types of paper, and here I was reading about an incredible story of courage, love, community - people who have never met, sharing their thoughts, their pain, their grief. It's not the destination, but the journey, as someone once wrote. One journey ends, another begins, and we learn, and in this way, perhaps humanity has a chance. It is a strange, surprising, sometimes sad, often joyous journey. The odds of having that horoscope, about life and blood and the heart, and coming across this site, of all the thousand and thousands out there. Reading the story of Susan has touched me in a special way - and in some ways that may not yet be entirely clear at the moment. This is a person that I never met, wife of a man called Andreas, a lover of cats, a vibrant and loving woman who was taken away too soon, and yet, 10 years later, has touched someone else's life.

Yes, life is strange, and as Susan said "life goes on."

Monday, January 09, 2006


My father passed away on December 22nd, 2005. My sister placed inside the coffin a poem written in my mother's handwriting - in red ink. She had passed away January 7, 2004. I do not think it was my mother's own poem, maybe a Polish or Russian poet. I googled some of the key words, and much to my amazement, while I did not find the poem itself, I did find this poem, by Janina Degutyte, a Lithuanian poet:


I left for the snowy midnight
To bow to the earth and the sky.

And in this silver point of space,
Where winds and ages cross,
Snowflakes fall and seconds fall
On my hair, upon my palms.
And they burn like salt,
And fetter the feet
With white unbreakable ropes.
But I shall not flee!
Only in this silver point of space,
Where houses and trees breathe behind my shoulders,
Where snowflakes fall and seconds fall
Upon my palms, into my heart, –
In red letters
I silently write on the snow
One name, one name...

by Janina Deguytyte

...."in red letters"....I lay in the snow that night....remember?
And so I ask: What were the odds of finding this poem,
amid all that exists out if I had written it....."in red letters" ?