Tsunami

It comes up from behind like a tsunami.  It's a wonder I don't drown.

In bocca al lupo. m (no v)

A Celebration of Life

 

My life closed twice before its close-

It yet remains to see

If Immortality unveil

A third event to me

So huge, so hopeless to conceive

As these that twice befell.

Parting is all we know of heaven, 

And all we need of hell.

                                                                                    -Emily Dickinson

and

Because I could not stop for Death-

He kindly stopped for me-

The Carriage held but just Ourselves-

And Immortality.

We slowly drove-He knew no haste

And I had put away 

My labor and my leisure too, 

For His Civility-

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess-in the Ring-

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain-

We passed the Setting Sun-

Or rather-He passed Us-

The Dews drew quivering and chill-

For only Gossamer, my Gown-

My Tippet-only Tulle-

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground-

The Roof was scarcely visible-

The Cornice-in the Ground

Since then-'tis Centuries-and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads

Were toward Eternity-

                 

                                                                                   -Emily Dickinson

Last night was the Celebration of Life for v, my beautiful man.  I am overwhelmed with the turnout.  Above are two of the readings I chose to formalize the occasion, as well as a reading of the 23rd Psalm (a new interpretation of that psalm).

The readings were followed by an amazing hour of people stepping up to speak of what v meant to them, of their fondest memories, and their grief in his passing.  If only the dead can hear what we say of them after they have left us.  He would have been as tearful as many of us and so very, very honored.  He was a loved man and has left many a hole in lives that won't be filled.

In honor of v, actor, painter, carpenter, waiter, artist, teacher, cherished friend, beloved father, adored husband. 

A brave and courageous man.

In bocca al lupo.  m (no v)

Loves Lost

How I'd love to say I'm just back from Paris, but I'm afraid this shot is a few years old and it's film.  I'd bought the film in a hurry and wasn't aware that it was black and white until after I got home.  Serendipity!  

My French is very  limited.  I can greet proprietors with the proper time of day, bon jour or bon soir, I can order an espresso (or double if extravagant), and I can buy ten tickets for a screaming ride on the Metro. And, of course, I can say thank you and a form of "your welcome".

I found Paris by accident since I'd never in my life ever had any desire to go there until a friend asked me to join her on a trip.  Well, I fell in love. Every break I had for the following year and a half I was in Paris wandering, drinking espresso, experiencing the seasons, falling in love with the people who were incredibly patient and kind.  I was something of a mute sister. 

The last trip I'd planned for Paris would have been in October of '05, but something extraordinary happened that took me away from that place where I may well have remained...I met v, and I married him, and I never looked back 'til now...now that it is all looking back...Paris would understand.

In bocca al lupo.  m (no v)

Clouds in the Window

Wondering about what will come.

In bocca al lupo.  m (no v)

So Black and White

It's all changed. It all looks the same.

In bocca al lupo.  m (no v)