existing...

at such great heights
there is no sadness

and the words you speak
are engraved in gold

in that sky you now soar in
you are weightless
and at ease

your heart is full and heavy
with peace

your smile engulfs everyone below who now
looks up to you to remember

your laughter now moves like wind
invisible
yet moving across our faces
like the smile you bring

you are everything to everyone
and complete
just as the sun rising and setting
moving across the sky each and every day

you are everywhere at once
and perfect in every way

we will breathe you in
and be reminded of your essence

at such great heights
you are what you've always wanted to be
content
loved
believed in
and remembered..

understanding lucy...part one

7.23.10

it's been about 2 hours now
when death beckoned space in my mind
and subsequently my heart as well-

i am now understanding lucy-
the woman she was
the woman she wanted to be

and the pain that lived close to her.

you wouldn't know these things as they are
these are the sort of things that you find out only afterwards
when everything about the person who has left suddenly becomes an explanation for the way things are now-

she complimented me on the words i've chosen to share with the world-
the things that moved me made some sort of sense to her
and there is more weight in her words.


she wrote step by step
line by line
death by river mississippi
like she knew it -
i stopped reading about the demise she dreamed of
i didn't want to believe that she beckoned death with words dangling like carrots


in understanding lucy
i wish i would have paid more attention to the fire that she didn't see in herself.
her fierce humor and wit
she smiled big
and lived out loud

i've been thinking a lot about what things like this teach us
and what i am learning from faurot

who had a name that surely would have looked good on a best seller's list.


impermanence-

the temporary in everything and everyone
is the best we can hope for

and really the only thing we can hope for...

speaks to me...

heavy roads i've travelled
making my way back to the past
trying to bring my present with me

an introduction of the two once again

i end up tongue tied emotionally -
things stop moving up and making sense

i react but not to the people in front of me
but to the things that i remember in the familiar spaces they occupy

a box of ashes is the first i see of my uncle
since i heard of his strange passing
there were no goodbyes
just a box with a sticker that proved that he existed..

i lifted it to see what a man of his place and predicament weighed

heavy...

i turned to see a man, my father, aging, and a a grandfather who is half of what he used to be
and when i looked for grandmother
she was not there
anymore

i haven't felt her presence there since she moved on or 'checked out' as grampa wrote
in the little yellow address book that held history more accurately then all of our minds collectively-
deaths,
births,
marriages
and social security numbers of the grandkids..

who needs addresses when you've got information on family like that.


travel through some farm roads and you will get to a place of madness

she talked of how they were going to remodel the memory out of the place
new paint, new floors, new appliances

but everyone knows the memory is in the bones of that house
and no new colors and upgraded, hired hands can take that away

the bodies that exist in that home have aged,
changed,
slowed down or sped up

all the accouterments exists that make it a family
unless you dig around and find the faults, levy's and dams that hold it together and pull it a part..

you can try to run only so far before the past and reality of everything slaps you in the face.
somehow it never forgets your face.

it has never forgotten mine

and i'm here now putting myself back together

yet trying to rebuild my emotional strength to face the witnessing of the realtor
in his yard-
who shares my name
and the 133 lb man
who once towered over life
and all of us
who now whispered to me
he's ready....

i know it's just the way it goes
all these things
and i invite this heaviness in when i return

and that camera taking pictures
forces me to remember what i'm inclined to forget.

none of us are above going through these parts of life
and i alone am not facing these changes that are coming and those that have occurred

i just question whatever happened to the sun that used to shine down on all our smiling faces
when we were all together

where are those pictures
inside my head
or on paper?

i guess the beauty in this is that i get to choose what i carry on with me

some of the places people carried with them didn't get the picture perfect ending that the photos make it appear that they had

i've lost those photos anyway-
and the only ones i've got now
are in my head

and soon
even that is unsafe to time
as my memory filters out things forgettable and unforgettable

these are the things and spaces that we must occupy
if we choose to remain signed up for this life
i remind myself that ultimately the hard parts are worth all the good parts culminated
that i can't seem to get a hold of right now

i'm fairly sure of it
even though i'm wavering a bit...

tidbits of a conversation in queue...

ALOOF- abstract=crazy?

withholding
running from our bill at Lucrat that one summer- bad breath

accessible- cannot access profile pictures that are seemingly easy to access... simple task undoable

crazy- ate a lot of sriracha and have not had taste buds for 4 days... both hands

trunk- same pose

stories- cold, dirty, swearing, 13 minutes, impound, the cats, snow, death, life, freezing

atmosphere- banjo, hollering, dark glasses, sharing "furious", cool breezes, open door, sparkling accessories, smile, pleather, Roxie's perfume...

we end with many pictures and stares
we are oblivious to anything other than ourselves and each other
this is what friends do
they fall helplessly in sync
with words
and laughter
and things that no one else comprehends..

we fit the part perfectly my dear P...

the closest distance...

heavy things fall in the smallest places
everyone is feeling this one

long drives and discouraged words
he tells me that the world is not worth the worry

she's looking for some sort of recognition in my words
and i'm looking for something in her memory.
she fills mine with hers

somebody said that reassurance can be the most important thing you can give someone.
somehow that eluded me
i think i've given her that
now
i am not quite sure how 6 years went by with a failure on my part to give her that-
i'm learning
slowly

slowly

we pick up things and we place them in new places
this is the same for matters of the heart

i think we've come to a new understanding
even if the lines are blurry and crooked at times

he calls too much and is reasonably needy for a man his age
he married his dreams
but failed to see the woman inside them who didn't share the same principles

he's alone
again
and somehow turns to me

and those lines i've drawn
get stepped over
and ignored
and i'm not sure how much of it is oblivion
or lonleiness at it's rawest

regardless i push him further than he'd like to be.

i reassure her that i loved her
and tell her i still love her immensely
she's finding that the woman she was is now opposite
and she gets where i was a little better
this sort of honesty is what we've needed for a long time

and i promise to keep her at the shortest distance

a long drive home
with a sore culo
and heavy heart

she's looking for the part of her that has been fragmented, broken from the core of her
she's anything but reset tonight
i didn't reassure of her anything other than my time
that was a mistake
i should have said more
so she knows i'm here unconditionally

she traveled far from me
a long distance in miles
and even further in emotion

she will come back to me
when she's ready
when she's more complete

it's an interesting thing when reason
trumps
a desired reality
it's anything and everything
almost
the tie without the label
the intent without premeditation

she falls
and i pick her up
no questions asked

i'm getting better at this
practice of reassurance
it has to do with the heavy things
falling in small places

and keeping the most sacred things at the closet distance...

visitor...

as i sit beneath the sign that reads Gonda 3 South i am forced to witness impermanence
and how fragile we are.

you are in some cold room laying atop some cold glass tube that gives away all the secrets your body holds-
how is it that we can see through our physical beings yet have no clue about what it is that we are thinking and feeling?

as i sit here in this faux- cheery but really just mediocre room amongst many old white faces-
one face catches my eye.
a young woman, my age or maybe younger
sits in a wheelchair
she stares out the window at the vast sky interrupted by the old stone buildings which are disrupted by the newer, shiny ones trying to steal our glimpses

she is here for a reason-
perhaps her body is hiding from her the information that could make her well.

something in me is reminded that our lives are given,
they are not guaranteed-
we are lucky to have this opportunity and chance to be who we are in this lifetime.
to take this time and our well being for granted
is simply ignorant.

the message couldn't be any more clear to me as the full room suddenly is cleared.
no one is around me any more.
i am alone.
those who have come to be poked,
prodded
and looked through
are erased from my witness eyes.
i am a visitor here.

i am intact.

i have no clue of what it feels like to carry around something that is bigger,
stronger,
and more powerful than my physical resolve.

this awakens me to the choices,
the luck,
the blessing i have been given with this body

the aches
and cracks
and occasional fatigue
are my reminder that it is a body-
with an expiration date,
perhaps already stamped on the inside.

i am lucky
and wiser
from this experience.

she sends me texts from the other side
telling me what she must drink,
so that they can see her more clearly
- a freeze frame of her body-
inside that tube.

she is hoping for some information-
some clue
that reveals what monster is now lurking within her bowels.

i have a feeling they won't see the pain or the fear inside her-
they may not see the monster either
but they look
and we all hope
that they are seeing more clearly today
than yesterday...

a celebration of specialness...

I really look forward to forgetting the details- because only by forgetting can I see things again as they really are.

as paraphrased by me from David Bryne "True Stories"