• Category Archives Third Phase

  • Back in the Mountains Again

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Franny and the Jets. Alan, proud poppa. Jon, calmer. Downtown Denver. The 16th Street Mall. The new breakfast place. Beignets. Feeling a bit lost yesterday afternoon.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Front Range last night with the Sun setting behind it as I drove home.

     

    June, 2019, our backyard

    Back now, reabsorbed into the Mountains. Surprised yesterday to see a for sale sign on Holly and Eduardo’s house. They’re moving to Palm Springs, close to it. Eduardo got a new job with the same company, a commercial laundry. Sad to see them go.

    Holly told me that Jim and Roberta, who live next to them, got divorced and their house will be up for sale, too. We’ll find out how accurate the (seemingly) inflated estimates are for our house prices.

    Drove over to Evergreen yesterday AM and had breakfast with Alan. Cheri, his wife, has organized a big July 4 music festival for Evergreen. She also did one for Memorial Day. A lot of work. Good for the town.

    The continuous rains we’ve had have greened up the Mountains. All the Plants look happy, watered, vibrant.

    Elk Meadow, which I passed on the way to breakfast yesterday, was the first tract of land protected by a community land trust based in Evergreen. It’s big. The namesake Animals lay down in the grass, others wandered, eating. Highway signs say Watch for Elk. Scan the Roadside.

    Got my x-rays back. No cancer, at least in these views. Whew. In the dry and matter of fact way of these reports: “X-rays show no acute changes; just old degenerative changes to lumbar spine and right hip.”

    That’s me. An old degenerate. P.T. starts next week.

    Still busy with this and that. Mostly. Yesterday afternoon though I’d paid all the bills, had breakfast with Alan, napped. Nothing really to do until 5 pm when I would leave for Dazzle Jazz in downtown Denver. Got to feeling displaced, a bit down. X-ray findings, while not terrible, reminded me of my own mortality. Which seems more real now with Kate’s death.

    Also, Dr. Thompson told me not to take anti-inflammatories because of “your vascular disease.” Oh. I haven’t taken them for years, but that was because of kidney disease. I have atherosclerosis, my Midwest U.S. diet hasn’t helped. Since mom and dad both had strokes a reminder of the vascular disease sent me down a short rabbit hole.

    Steadied. Sure, I’ll die. When? Don’t know. Today? Well, if so…

    Jon and Kate in his new house. The kitchen looks very different now.

    Alan’s daughter Franny is a jazz singer with a band called the Jets. They played an Amy Winehouse set yesterday. Dazzle Jazz @ Baurs. I saw her there three years ago when she decided to give up music and had a farewell show. Felt like I’d seen the end, so I wanted to see the beginning. She’s young.

    Invited Jon. We had dinner, enjoyed the show. The band took a while to gel, but when they got there, it was good. Being there was therapeutic for me. Saw a lot of CBE’ers and had time with Jon. He’s on a beta blocker now which seems to have calmed him down. A good thing.

    I can now find my way out of Denver without GPS. That feels good. It’s taken a while since I’m not in Denver often. The Mountains, as Jen pointed out long ago, line the western horizon. Angle toward them and you get outta town.

    As I drove home last night, the setting sun backlit the Front Range, giving it a paper cutout look with jagged peaks in black against a blueblack and white sky. Beautiful, poignant.

    When I turned off 470 onto 285, my favorite sign shone up ahead: Watch for Rocks and Wildlife. That’s home.

     

     


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  • What a Beautiful Soul.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Mary in Texas. Diane making plans. 44 again this morning with Rain overnight. Paying bills yesterday. Chicken Saltimbocca from Easy Entrees. Jon, Ruth, and Gabe coming up Wednesday evening. Blue Sky. White Clouds. Bright Sun.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Touching conversation with Kate’s friend, Lauri Knox. Learning how Kate talked about loving me to her. Grief. Memories of Kate.

     

    Early 2015

    Much as I dislike it I spent time on the phone yesterday making sure our dental insurance got changed to one person, paying a bill dating from cataract surgery last fall. Changing credit card numbers for ongoing billing. Fun. Exciting. Domestic thrills.

    My goal right now is to clear out all the outstanding bills, medical and otherwise, then get started on the new, regular budget. Have to get Social Security survivor’s benefits. That will help. Today.

    Even though it’s nit picky and detail oriented (to this big picture guy) I find this work satisfying. I like paying people for services they have rendered. Makes the equation balance.

    Got the house cleaned yesterday. Marina Harris and Furball Cleaning. The place feels so much better afterwards. Smells better, too.

    Once the bills and budget stuff finish up working on Kate’s clothing, jewelry comes next. Pruning the walkout, that big closet next to the boiler. Various drawers and shelves. Kate’s chest of drawers.

    Long arm

    Lauri Knox came over yesterday to look at Kate’s long-arm quilter. She’s a friend of Kate’s from Bailey Patchworkers. As she left, she said, “What a beautiful soul she was.” We talked then about Kate, about how she was. About her spot on the bench, a place made holy by her presence there. On a bench made by Jon, designed by her.

    She also said Kate used to talk about how much she loved me. This brought tears to both of our eyes. Lauri couldn’t remember the words, but the feeling of unconditional love, she said, was always present. I find these moments so special, as if Kate has reached across the veil and touched me. The tears they produce are lacrimae, sacred and purifying.

    She also asked me if I was going to move. “A lot of people just can’t be in the house. So many memories.” No, I said, I plan to stay. I’m not that kind of person. I didn’t say that memories of Kate in this house make me smile. Feel good.

    Both Lauri and Jackie, our hairstylist, live in Bailey, a small mountain town further west from Conifer about 15 miles. Both of them, too, have a latter day spiritualist understanding about death. Lauri has a memory bench where she goes to talk to her mom and dad. “I’ve not sensed Kate, not yet anyway. She’s off on her own adventure.”

    Jackie has offered twice to give me the number of a psychic who lives in Indiana and helps her communicate with the spirit world. When I was in last week to get a haircut, she said about Kate, “She’s up there channeling right now.”

    Christianity is a similar story. It’s not hard to see how it can produce offspring in secular religiosity. When I go to my class reunions in Alexandria, I stay at a Christian Spiritualist camp in nearby Chesterfield. Not a huge movement anymore, but one with roots well down in the soil of Victorian England. Check out what Sir Arthur Conan Doyle thought was his most important work. Hint: It wasn’t Sherlock Holmes.

    Not a lot different from the day of the Dead, Samain, All Saints. See the wonderful Pixar movie, Coco.

    What happens on the other side? Hell if I know. My best guess is extinction. But it’s just that, a guess, and no more well-informed than any other guess. In fact I hope I’m wrong. It would be delightful to think of finding Kate again, of finding Celt and Vega and Tully and all the others. Playing in the Fields of the Lord. Whatever that might mean.

    Not holding my breath though.

    Breakfast, then calling social security. Big fun.

     

     


    Faith and Spirituality Family Feelings Memories Shadow Mountain Third Phase

  • Shadow Mountain

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Marina Harris and her housecleaning crew. Bond and Devick, trusted. Dr. Niguchi and his hygienist. Clean teeth. Safeway pickup. Ruby working fine. Jon, Ruth, and Gabe coming up at 1 pm. Kep and Rigel, my pals and companions. Cool weather. 59 this morning. New laptop.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe:  Single life.

    Teeth cleaning. Every six months. You know the drill. First time without Kate. We always went together. Kate, always with Kate. She travels in my lev though, everywhere. (Lev is Hebrew for heart/mind. I agree with this more ancient binding of the intellectual and emotional, but English doesn’t have an equivalent.)

    Unexpected moments when Kate comes to mind. Seeing Jackie for my second haircut with only lev Kate. Jon, Ruth, Gabe coming up for a visit. Like old times except, no Grandma. Writing. Thinking I should let Kate see this.

    Each time I’m aware of her, see mail addressed to her, walk by her ashes and my small altar to her, the pain lessens and integrating lev Kate becomes more of a joy. WWKD is an important sieve. I can hear her voice, know her responses which would differ from mine.

    As I said of Kate’s mother Rebecca, who haunted Kate until the day of her death, ghosts live within us. Not all ghosts are hungry ghosts, mean and demeaning as Rebecca was. Kate’s ghost, lev Kate, her spirit and knowledge living with me, brings me a smile, a warm glow. May it always be so.

    Kate, BJ, Ruth, solar eclipse 2017 at BJs Idaho house

    We’ve had rain the last two nights and temperatures have dipped into the high forties. Perfect sleeping. The rain not only improves our wild fire situation, but also knocks down the Lodgepole pollen that filters inside, leaving yellow layers on wood surfaces. Tree sex. We’re in the middle of it right now.

    The Aspen, a later evolved species, use a different strategy. Casting male pollen into the air hoping it lands on a female cone has the hallmark of Pine’s early place in the evolution of Trees. Though Aspen produce seed, cloning through shoots sees Aspen Groves, all with the same DNA, common. More certain than blindingly flinging your stuff into the wind. But both work.

    Jet lag not too bad. Going to sleep at my regular time between 8 pm and 9. Getting up between 5:30 and 6:00. Jagged still, but less so. Working on the plan. Fiscal and physical order here on Shadow Mountain.

    Jon, Ruth, and Gabe arrive around 1 pm, bringing dinner with them. Ruth will start the process of removing Kate’s stuff by defining what she wants from the sewing room. Sewing machine, yes. But, what else, she’ll decide today. She’ll also take Kate’s t-shirts and make me a quilt from some of them.

    Jon plans to work on the Subaru’s brakes, moving forward the time when it can leave the garage. I want it gone since the garage is a key pruning site. Most of the near term pruning will involve Kate’s belongings, getting them distributed where they can help the most.

    I plan to move the Stickley table from downstairs into what had been Kate’s sewing room, creating a more formal dining area. Will use her storage spot as a pantry.

    This process will take a while, but I’d like to finish before August 18th when family will gather for a final tribute to her. Would have been her 77th birthday. Doable.

    Hawai’i has receded. Now faraway, 3,000 miles over water. Loved, not forgotten, but no longer present. Wait and see.

    Byodo-in, Oahu, 2021

     

     

     

     


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  • The Hermitage

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Mountain Waste. Emily. Buster’s. The Internet. Coffee Machine. Its results. Sleep. Through the night! Wow. Island time, may it reign. Aloha. Shalom. Good to see ya. Kep and Rigel, my buddies.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: My body. My spirit.

    June, 2015

    Surprised at how right being home feels. Surprised I’m surprised. A bit of angst, twinges. More to come, I’m sure, but the overwhelming feeling is, I belong here. Poignant feeling over against my flirting with infidelity to Shadow Mountain. Glad to have both though. A place I love and a place I could love.

    I admit it. I’m easy. I fall for places. Hard. The true north Shore of Lake Superior. Could I live there? Oh, yeah. The San Juan’s? When I do leave? Korea? Would take some adjustment, but, why not? The Big Island? I could make it happen. Will I? The Shadow knows. But, I don’t.

    In this moment. Shadow Mountain. Kate found it and I fell for it long ago. Closed on Samain of 2014. Moved on the Winter Solstice of the same year. The Rocky Mountains! Whoa. Colorado! Geez, what a deal. Live in Colorado, in the Mountains. See grandkids. Jon.

    And so it has been. Except for the part where medical issues kept us close to home right after we got here. Still in the Mountains. The Rocky Mountains! Lots more to  see.

    I’ve not been to Four Corners. Gunnison. Creede. Telluride. The Dinosaur National Monument. Steamboat Springs. Aspen. Vail. The Dunes. The San Juan wilderness. No road trips here except for the Ancient Ones’ pilgrimage to Durango. Ready to see me some Colorado. Hire a house/dog sitter and go. At least a week long trip this summer or fall.

    So much to do here. My place. Needs me. And, as I said in passing to Joseph last week, “I don’t bail on the people I love.” Places, too? Not the same, I know, but related.

    Today is haircut, a few supplies, and opening all those pieces of first class mail. Dealing with them. Tomorrow is teeth and budget work. Friday is new laptop day and getting started on Kate’s stuff.

    Pruning starts now.

     


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  • Namaste

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and a faint sliver of the Island Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Seoah’s massage. Muscles aching. The Palms lining the boulevards here. Murdoch. Working out. Needing help with it. The Sun. The Ocean. The Pearl River. Tropical Fish and that big Crab I saw. Kep and Rigel. Kate, always Kate.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Namaste to the Trees, the Ocean, the Mountains.

    Not Hawai’i. National Western Stock Show Pro Rodeo

    Walked this am without my heart rate monitor. I didn’t want to “work” out, but be out and do some good for my heart at the same time. Forgot how much I enjoy it. Time to contemplate, meditate, or be in the present.

    Continued my new practice. Put my hands together, a short bow, and Namaste to certain Trees, the Ocean, the Mountains, the Sun. Even the Crabs and brightly colored Fish. This small gesture has surprised me. I say, “The god in me bows to the god in you.” I can sense reciprocity. That is, I can feel a return bow, an acknowledgment that yes, the god in that Monkey Pod Tree knows the god resident in me. Those jagged green Mountains send me the blessing of the ancient deity who lives within them. The Ocean as well.

    I don’t do all the Trees or Mountains because that would look very strange and take way too long. I’d never get back to breakfast. But in those cases where I did stop, bow, silently speak the bond it created sprang to life immediately. Yes. Hello. Back at ya.

    In the process, btw, I found myself yearning again to live here. Much as I try to be practical, think through the steps, hobble myself from making a too fast decision, Hawai’i and the Pacific keep beckoning. Honestly, dude.

    That’s the thing about some dreams. They won’t let you alone. Keep intruding, saying, Hey, don’t forget! The horizon line on the Pacific, where the Earth curves away from my sight. The Hawai’ian donuts. The Plants in their abundance and in their color. My soul bows to each of them in turn and hears back from them, “Come.” The living Wood of the Outrigger Canoes and their Paddles. Kane and Ku. The Whales. Aloha, Charlie!

    Time must pass, for many reasons, before I take action, but it feels more compelling each time the idea of life here resurfaces in my thoughts.

    Seoah suggested Pilates for me. There’s a place in Evergreen. I think I’ll try it. Something new. It focuses on flexibility and balance as much as strength. What I need.

    Return to Shadow Mountain. Two weeks from today. Time to immerse myself in the new, post-Kate’s physical presence life. Finish up with social security, close that Minnesota credit union account, put my new budget  process to work in everyday life. See my CBE friends, hike in the mountains, hug Kep and Rigel. This has been what I needed, this time here, a respite,  a time for recovery. By the 22nd though I’ll be ready.

     

     


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  • Penultimate Day in Colorado

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Island Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: The intricate web of people, near and far, family, friends who held and hold me as I walk, slowly, this most ancientrail. Emily, who will love Rigel and Kep while I’m gone. Rigel and Kep, my home companions. The Ancient Ones. CBE. MVP tonight. Covid 19 test at Walgreen’s today. Jet travel. The great moisture we’ve gotten in May so far.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Mountain Night Sky. Lift. (airplane wings) The vastness of the World Ocean and the  Islands sprinkled throughout. Life.

    Our Korean angel

     

    After plowing through several usernames on different sites as I changed our information to my information, I found one I could use and not have to start over: animist. Guess it’s not front of mind for hardly anybody. Yeah. (psst. Don’t tell. Though. I do use a password manager.)

    The safety deposit box and all banking accounts are now in the trust, the Olson Buckman-Ellis family trust. The big advantage of this is that, at my death, either Joseph or Jon can write checks, access the savings and the safety deposit box. It was simpler for me since I was the joint account holder, but it will be a different situation when I die. A little extra work now makes life easier for them.

    I’m also switching to all online bill paying through Wells-Fargo. Easier, quicker, better records. Cheaper, too.

    Tuesday morning it took right at 2 hours to remove Kate from the Verizon account and establish me as the account owner. Will said, “She’s going by the book.” I sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair as he calmly talked her through it. I’d spent just under that completing the banking changes with Cody. Over 4 straight hours from starting with Cody to finishing with Will.

    Wiped me out. The sitting. The why of the tasks. The long interaction with other people. Slept for two and a half hours when I got back home.

    It’s been a theme. The death certificates, too. Many of these tasks have taken longer than usual. Different reasons in each case. I have, however, finished everything that had to be done before I leave. Feels great, burden lifted.

    More tasks still, but none that have to be done before I leave.

    Called Emily and had her come out again. We chatted, exchanged information, I paid her, gave her the keys. Glad I had her come back. She’s going to be the one staying here and she’s obviously competent and caring.  Leaving the dogs is difficult. Again, a burden lifted.

    Staples laminated my proof of vaccine card. Free. A smart move on their part. I also faxed the death certificate to OptumRx. After the I pushed the button for send, the fax machine reported it was in deep sleep. Huh? Several minutes later it woke up, printed a receipt.

    Breakfast now. Get started packing. Shouldn’t take too long, but has to get done. Covid test at Walgreen’s at 10:45. Info for Hawai’i’s safe traveler program. Prevents a 10 day quarantine. Worth it.

    MVP tonight. Appropriate. Reconnect in person with folks, some of whom I haven’t seen in a year. Others came to make the minyan at Kate’s service and at shiva. This gives me a chance to reenter the in person world of CBE before I leave. Glad for that chance.


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  • Shloshim ends

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Island Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Kate’s death, one month ago today. Kate conducting Brahm’s from her hospital bed. Kate and I laughing, as we often did. The end of shloshim. The guy at Verizon. Cody Wise. A long nap. Sufficient money. A house in a wonderful location.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Pacific Ocean, may it be pacific for me. Traveling again.

    kate and me in time

    Thirty days. + one. I got the call, “She’s gone.” Wham, life went sideways. The last month has been a poignant game of Chutes and Ladders, climbing, climbing, sliding back down only to climb again. A Sisyphean time.

    Today and tomorrow are the last days I have to finish up stuff here that has to be done in person. I’m almost there. The only remaining tasks of that sort I’ll handle today. I have to apply for a credit card in my name at Wells Fargo and switch the safety deposit box into the trust. At noon I see Emily a second time to go over the information for her, give her the house key, and pay her. The house sitter/dog sitter. Also, I haven’t faxed a death certificate to Optum Rx, the only one that required a fax. Laminate vaccine card.

    As far as I know, that completes the have to’s before I go to Hawai’i.

    Got to take Kate off the dental insurance. Sign up for Survivor’s Benefits from Social Security. When I get back, the task of cleaning out her clothes, jewelry, sewing room will be up front. May be difficult. We’ll see. I’ll have help.

    Less numb, more aware of the moment. A curtain still hangs, less opaque than before, shielding me from too much. When that veil lifts, a different stage of mourning will begin.

    This afternoon and tomorrow my focus will turn to getting ready to go to Hawai’i. Deciding what to take. What to buy there. As I said before, my first trip in a very long time. Excited, a bit wary.


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  • Home and Family: where the healing is

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Island Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Kate and I sitting, breathing hard, surrounded by unpacked boxes the last week of December, 2014. Kate and I at Congregation Beth Evergreen, some winter night, at a study of King David. Our first night there. Kate asking me to plant an extended Iris bed and Lilacs in her memory. On it, sweetheart. Kep and Rigel, asleep in doggy dreamworld. Robyn at the Board of Pensions. Yet more Snow. Emily and Mobile Critters.

    Sparks of Joy: MVP Thursday night. Hawai’i.

    Spent all day yesterday at home. Social Security was too busy, so I’ll get a letter from them about signing up for survivor’s benefits. Spoke with the Board of Pensions, confirmed my 1/3 pension decrease. Worked out. Found myself tired after the morning. Napped as usual.

    Might sound depressing. Not my experience. I get fed by being alone, need time to myself even after positive interactions like Sunday: Ancient Ones, Marilyn and Irv. Back to Wells Fargo today. Finish up credit card, safety deposit box, savings account change overs. After fax death certificate to Optum Rx. Didn’t get that done yet. Laminate vaccine record.

    Today is the penultimate (a word Kate loved) day of shloshim. Tomorrow is the month anniversary of Kate’s death. All of my shloshim for Kate occurred in the Jewish month of Iyar, notable for turning bitter water into sweet.

    Psychic alchemy turns mourning, grief into new life. In the mind’s alembic memory and the present moment swirl together. A past that has to be past transforms the present of the living. I’m far from that point, but not so far that I can’t imagine it.

     

    Forgot to post this.


    Family Feelings Shadow Mountain Third Phase

  • Hey, Pardner

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Moon of Mourning

    Saturday gratefuls: Kate, sticky with the honey harvest. Kate, shepherding me into a shower, giving me antihistamines after multiple bee stings. Kate, Celt, and I at the St. Kate’s art fair in St. Paul. Cody Wise, a Wells Fargo Banker. Rich Levine, bee keeper. Rabbi Jamie. Mark Koontz, of Primitive Landscaping. He will extend and replant the Iris bed and put in three Miss Kim lilacs in the back. BJ live on the radio with Schecky.

    Sparks of Joy: Beekeeping. Getting tasks done.

    Wild grapes waiting for Kate to turn them into jelly

    Yesterday afternoon I pulled out all the honey harvesting equipment: uncapping knife and rake, solar wax renderer, motorized extractor, buckets, and filters. Took it to the driveway so Rich could pick it up for our work this morning with Sofia.

    As I moved these objects, each last touched by us in 2014 when we moved, a wave of sadness and longing swept over me. Kate and I were partners. We grew flowers, picked fruit in our orchard, planted and harvested vegetables, managed a pack of dogs. My partner is dead. I missed her so much in that moment. Went back inside, sat down, cried for a bit. Not paroxysmally, but tears running down my face.

    We were bound together by those things of the soil, of the four-leggeds, of the six-legged. It was a good life until the physical burden of became onerous. The move to the mountains, here on Shadow Mountain, came at a time when we needed to set down those tasks, pass them onto the younger couple that bought our Andover home.

    We partnered again, living in the move. It took us most of 2014 to get ready and we worked hard. Once here in the Rockies we found ourselves tested by cancer, by Jon’s divorce, by Kate’s medical issues. Through it all. Partners.

    Even to the last. Death with dignity. Yes, the right choice for you, I said. Even beyond the last. I’ve hired a landscaper who will fulfill two of Kate’s last wishes, a larger Iris bed in front and Lilacs planted in back. Half of her ashes will go into the Iris bed in August when family gathers to honor her on her birthday, August 18th.

    Those tears, that sadness. It was for the good stuff. The way we lived together, always. Yes, I miss my pard, as we might say here in the West, but the knowledge and memory of how we were together does and will sustain me as I move forward.

    Grief is the price we pay for love.

     


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  • There is a road, no simple highway…

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Ostara and the Moon of Mourning

    Saturday gratefuls: Kate wanting to visit the fields of Heather around Inverness. SeoAh and her smile. The Grateful Dead shabbat last night. Ripple.* Mourning in the Mountains with CBE and CBE. Kate breathing freely, walking with purpose once again.

    Sparks of Joy: Vaccines. Mobile Critter Care.

    retired at last

    There are ripples in the still waters of my soul. Kate. She lives there now for me, an eternal companion. Today and tomorrow. She reminds me of the love we shared, the way we were together, the way I am thanks to her. And I carry her forward in Malkut. Waiting someday to travel to the keter, the crown of creation’s endless motion, with her as a companion.

    Irony. Having a sore in my mouth, above the left canine. Hurts to eat. What Kate experienced for at least three years. All the time. No wonder she became food aversive. Add nausea to that pain. Awful. The feeding tube gave her at least two more years of life even though it created problems as it solved them.

    What will linger longest for me about her last hospital stay is sign language. Some of you may remember Kate learned sign language when she lost her voice not long after we married. While in bed, her speaking requiring extra breaths for a full sentence, we began signing I love you: little finger, index finger, and thumb extended. I would sign and place the hand with the sign on my heart.

    While on the drive over to Evergreen Memorial to complete the paperwork for her cremation, I thought about family, our immediate family. The counted cross stitch she made, the one that took her three years and two continents to complete, is in Arts and Crafts style. It has mostly green vines on a beige background. Near the top are three words: Love is Enough.

    I want this to be our family motto. I will have t-shirts made for each of us with her completed work printed on them. With a katydid. Kate had cloth labels made with a katydid and the words Katy did it.

    The works of her hands cover so many beds, hang on so many walls, rest on various chairs and couches. Carry things from here to there. She loved sewing for specific people and she loved giving them what she had made.

    She walks today on the most ancientrail of all: a road, no simple highway between the dawn and the dark of night. I know she travels it unafraid, curious. Open. Glad. Filled with Joy.

    Ok, yes. My metaphysical honesty makes me add, how the hell do I know? I don’t know. But if there is a road, and if Kate is on it, her keen mind and open heart will serve her well.

    I’m sleeping well. Eating ok with the exception of crowding food over to the right side of my mouth to avoid the sore. It will pass. Sadness and distraction still travel with me because I’m on a road, no simple highway, between life with Kate and life without her.

    A lot of grieving happened as Kate’s condition worsened, as we both acknowledged it, said out loud where her journey would take her. As it has. I grieved her loss with her, saying what I would miss about her, how much I would miss her.

    She reminded me that she was losing me, too. Oh, yeah.

    Not sure how long this will go on. As long it must, I suppose.

     

     

    *”There is a road, no simple highway
    Between the dawn and the dark of night
    And if you go no one may follow
    That path is for your steps alone

    Ripple in still water
    When there is no pebble tossed
    Nor wind to blow”


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