28 November …
It has been a full year …
A friend, who is also a one year widow, recently scattered her husband’s ashes. One of her friends, who was with her, told her that rather than separating us death is what unites us since we are all going to die.
Interesting thought …
Here for George … (courtesy of Marge Piercy)
the day I forget to love you
the day I forget your name
… and then my own
I will turn in the center
of my intricate weave,
spelling your name in my dance …
your hidden name which
is simply,
finally,
Love.
And from me …
It’s been a year
Since you left.
I understand you had to go
But seventy years is a long time
And the change has been hard.
Wherever you are
Know I miss the wiggles and giggles,
The tugs and hugs,
The “Just like 1946”,
The news in the mornings,
The kewpie top knot,
The orange juice waiting,
The smile,
The touch,
… I love you
But enough …
~~~
Thanksgiving dinner at the HiLo was a bit strange. I had a Cobb salad. Kamille had a hamburger. Paul had waffles and bacon. Only Mark had the turkey dinner. But it was all good.
And in time for Thanksgiving the white holiday cactus began to bloom. The red seems to waiting for the end of the year.
The rain had begun wednesday afternoon. Thursday there were occasional snow flakes mixed in … nothing of real note. Friday the ruts which had begun to reform in the roads were running full tilt and the potholes were returning.
Friday morning about 0900 the snow began. Just enough to leave us wanting more.
We’ve been having overcast, clouds, drizzle, wind, and cold ever since … until Monday night.
This morning it is still raining and we are being told to expect snow soon.
This is the view out my south window. Looks like a painting.
~~~
The Interfaith Thanksgiving Service at St. Barnabas, Mark and Kamille’s church, was nice. Thanksgiving thoughts were read and sung from Buddhist, Catholic, Cherokee, Shaker, and Muslim faiths as well as Episcopalian … and it was followed by all-you-can eat Pumpkin Pie.
~~~
Today is the last of the food shares for this year. It will be at St. Barnabas Church.
Next one is in January (weather permitting) also at St. Barnabas’ and the fresh sharing will begin again in February (also weather permitting). I wonder what there will be fresh to share that early in the year.
~~~
And the last of the Van Gogh’s …
I chose “The Weaver” painted in 1884 quite a time before his mental situation changed the way he saw things. It caught my eye although I am a spinner and knitter rather than a weaver. Maybe the wheel off to the side is what I saw first. And the bright red makes me wonder what the cloth was destined to be.
I haven’t chosen the art study for 2019 yet. Suggestions? I’m open to study just about any artist or subject.
~~~
Recently I wrote about possessives when used for family members and friends. Seems it really is a conundrum.
Someone who is a long ago genealogical contact, “related” via a family predecessor back eight generations, felt they had the right to post public notices about George and Michael. They claim they did so because George and Michael are “connected in my heart … Every last {information site} is set up with love, every connection I can and do make for them is done with love. I consider George and Michael to be family. My memorial is my way of showing kindness, respect, caring for them, honoring them, reconnecting them to all of their families, and friends, who also still grieve for them, and celebrate them, and may also want to pay their respects and share their memories. I’m sorry, but you don’t have a lock on love or grief, for anyone, and you don’t have a right to stomp on any of it for all others.”
This person never knew me nor any of my family other than through genealogical research. Mourning genealogical “family” seems like a BIG task since if you go back more than three or four generations, using only direct lines, you list hundreds of people.
The people who knew and mourn George and Michael are in contact with me and don’t need reminding.
The person, when challenged, quoted back at me my thoughts about possession of people which is why I started this with that reference.
Maybe I should clarify …
I did not and do not own people. People are their own. But I do feel that in these days of identity theft I do own the information about my dead and the use of that data.
In the past, while actively doing genealogical research, I have posted pictures of graves as part of a cemetery site. I have not created (nor will I ever create) “memorials” for anyone other than direct family, i.e. no sixth cousins twice removed … I don’t know that the relationship in this instance is actually sixth cousin twice removed. It is so distant it doesn’t show on relationship charts … and in this case the connection is by marriage, not heritage.
Okay … so I’m feeling violated.
I do feel a bit sorry for someone who needs to create “family” on such tenuous grounds. I am lucky to have immediate family as well as genealogical “cousins” with whom I correspond regularly. Our connections are more than paper.
And when I mentioned this situation to Mark he said to wait and watch for the request for money.
Oh well …
~~~
Now, a reminder for me and my mirror …
The dents, scratches, and wrinkles are all reminders of experience and to erase them would be to ignore the complexities of life.
So … ‘til next week