Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth. For whom my heart aches. Gabe. For whom my heart sings. Jon. For whom my heart waits. Rebecca. A kindness. Alan. A fullness of friendship. Seeking the whole lev-the heart mind. Wholeness. Kep, my companion. The Denver Mtn. Parks Trail with Gabe. Covid. Grief. Kate, always Kate. Shavout.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth.
Tarot: Queen of Stones, Bear
“Grief is a heart-wrenchingly painful problem for the brain to solve… to live in the world with the absence of someone… ingrained in your understanding of the world… For the brain, [they are] simultaneously gone and also everlasting, and you are walking through two worlds at the same time.” from the Grieving Brain by Francis O’Connor. Marginalia
This quote explained grief to me. In a way nothing else has. Since the experience is still fresh, I thought I’d pass it along. Grief lasts forever, grieving does not, O’Connor says. My experience, too. Grieving is over for me. At least in the main. But grief? No. Still sad and wistful. Still missing Kate. Still walking through two worlds. A beautiful phrase.
Had breakfast with Rebecca Martin yesterday at Parkside. Rebecca is a fellow kabbalah and mussar student. She’s 80, but very vital. Each year she makes a months long journey to a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery near Dharamshala in northern India.
She started out teaching English there but has become a part of the community. Though she still teaches English. She had to take a break during Covid and isn’t sure when she’s going back. Have to admire that chutzpah. The plane ride alone. Yeah?
A good conversation.
While there, I met a Leonberger/Bernese Mountain Dog mix. A really big dog. Odin. Ten months old, still very much the puppy but almost Wolfhound height and weighing in at 140 pounds. Not mature. He was so funny and loving. Wagged his whole body. Made me want one.
Realized when Ruth and Jon came up later that my life has shifted again. I’m the Grandpa with a Mountain home and love that needs nothing in return. Which is not to say I don’t appreciate being loved. I do.
But they feel comfortable here because I’m comfortable here and with them. And with their individual dramas. Most of the time. A role shift from Jon’s mom’s husband and sorta grandpa to a key life figure for all three of them. Not really grandpa, not really father, just a guy who loves them and is willing to hang in there with them.
I’ve struggled with this, but have chosen to lean into it, make it what I’m here for until the kids are through high school. Doesn’t mean I can’t travel, be other places, but I’m staying here for now. Probably as long as I’m able.
Dogs have closed minds. As do other humans. We can’t see inside and know what’s going on. It occurred to me a week or so ago that Kep may not have gotten up on the bed with me because it reminded him of Rigel. May have smelled like her, too. The last few nights he’s gotten up on the bed and stayed through morning. I’ve asked him to, and, yes, I believe he understands. It feels like he’s decided to push past his grieving to comfort me. Feels like a treasure.
I’ve also decided to get a puppy. Gonna do it. Kep will bond with the puppy over time, not be mean to it. A female. And, I don’t care what the breed is. Just filled out an application for Kahlua, a German Shepherd mix. We’ll see out what happens. Oooh, a puppy!





Friday gratefuls: Snow. About 18 inches or so. Steel gray Sky over a whitened Black Mountain. Kep slogging through the Snow. Loving it. O2 saturation low yesterday. ?. The life of the mind. The life of the body. Life. Kate, always Kate. David Sanders. Jon. Lungs. Air. Altitude. Vince.
Kep’s raggedy look. I brush him and brush him and brush him. Taking off as much fur as any dog probably has on them at any one time, yet he has still more. And yet more comes. The second coat of a cold adapted dog breed. A damned nuisance.
Made it through yesterday. Remembering. Loving the remembering and being saddened by it and gladdened by it. I did what I said I would. Moved Kate’s ashes and her signature red glasses to a niche behind my computer, behind me right now. Rigel, too. Both weighed about the same. Rigel’s big paw print in plaster of paris and a sweet card from the folks at Sano, acknowledging Rigel as a very sweet dog who will be missed. By us all. My two ladies, now elsewhere, gone from here. Not from the soft squishy thing in my skull however.
Cousin Diane said something that stuck with me. Sounds like prioritizing exercise is important. Yes. Broke a logjam in my thinking that kept pressing writing and exercise into a face off for my time. Health comes first. I should know this already after watching Kate’s steady, sad decline. But, I didn’t have it. I’m going to get my 30 minutes plus in five days a week. We’ll see how the rest of the schedule takes shape with that as the priority.
Told David again, I don’t want to convert. Might be a little bit repetitive on that one. But, I said, I’m so drawn to the people, the tribe. Not the torah or the kabbalah or the talmud or even the regular services, but the community. I told him about dating three Jewish women at the same time after my divorce from Raeone. Not sure why, just happened. Well, probably not.
Yes, it’s surprising, but this is how I feel. Eager for the new creation while sad about Rigel, about Kate, about the life that included them in the body. No, I’m not moving out of the present moment. I anticipate nothing. I regret nothing. I yearn for nothing.


One of the upsides of all the angst this last year has been an immersion in love. Folks from all parts of my life from high school to college, family to friends, Minnesota to Colorado, Evergreen to Conifer, Judaism to Christianity have reached out, offered or given me support. It’s had the result I’ve needed. I’m not alone. I’m both needed and accepted as I am. Good to know at 75.
Saturday gratefuls: That Urbandale rocker. The new coffee table. The new lamp. Here at the Hermitage. Many items put in cabinets, fussing will be required. A plan slowly coming together. Feels wonderful. Rigel did not eat today. Her footpads. The two delivery guys from Modern Bungalow. “Do you have wildlife up here?” Looking at 4 Mule Deer in the front. Kids. Ruth’s first day back after the hospital. Snow coming down gently. Night fell.
Tired of feeling tired. I get only a few things done. Sit down. Nap. A few more. Not enough. I imagine it’s either the Erleada or the Erleada/Orgovyx combo. So hard to suss out though. Sarcopenia from not working out. Other meds. Getting good sleep so that’s not it.