Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Daily Meditation.

I sit  here  and watch the lake below, the ocean over the dunes far off.
Water helps to set a calming mood, lulls me into nothingness.
I sit and stare out.
My goal  today is to survive one more hour without succumbing to waves of grief.

I'm fragile, a paper boat on a bobbing wave.

I can drown any second.  Sleeplessness, irritability, anger are my companions.
Today, we will leave and go pick berries until I lose track of who I am, whom I've lost.
Tomorrow is far away.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Where would we be without friends?

(Rachel Williams, wife of Michael Kohan, one of Brian's childhood friends, preparing flower displays for Brian's Memorial, July 30th.)

My favorite pictures are of the new people we met in Long Beach, friends or spouses of friends, all chipping in, adding their own beauty touches during the week prior to Brian's Memorial. Each one, like Rachel here, worked magic, doing all that needed doing, big and little things that added beauty and comfort to the occasion. Someone wrote the obituary draft, someone prepared the memorial program, someone worked on cleaning the interior, someone catered the many gatherings, someone cooked, someone scrubbed floors, washed walls and windows.........

They came in and out; and they all brought joy!
We tasted the love in each thoughtful gesture.

We are  still in a daze, my husband and my other children,their spouses and relatives, and Janet, Brian's fiancee. She had coordinated all this out pour, hundreds of people, friends and co-workers of both of them. Throughout, she was quietly doing, arranging, holding hands, coordinating, managing the many crews that showed up.

 Our hearts are comforted daily by all this love and beauty.

Friday, August 19, 2011

A need that doesn't go away.

(This is not easy to write; nor, will it be easy to read.)

I'm in a cage.A lonely one. Sad, teary-eyed.  Nothing out there calls me out. I'm trapped, licking a wound that won't heal, can't heal.
I should be doing so many other things.
But I sleep and dream a lot. Dreaming and dreaming and dreaming for hours and hours.

I cry quiet tears without  immediate stimuli. Everything and everything speaks of Brian's presence. His phone has been on for a month, and he appears to be on chat on Facebook. His friends and fiance are posting his pictures, are talking about him. I feel happy and proud of the love around his name.

I'm frozen. I can't write thank you notes. I can't call anyone.

When I see anyone, I break down in tears.
I have a need to cry.
I have a need to shout.
And a need to ask Divine Justice to set this right!
A mother does not bury her son, I want to shout out. This is wrong! Wrong.
Fix It, God. Fix it.

Monday, August 15, 2011

I'll concentrate on this scene every day.

Friends and neighbors who might not have known each other until this day worked side by side, day after day, building this garden. I will concentrate on this act, when I'm sad and in pain, and I can't stop the tears. This garden is our metaphor for Brian's life.
I see Jordan on my left, whom I had not seen for twenty years. Facebook friends told him about the death, they all attended the funeral, they all returned to finish the garden after the plank ceremony, after the service at Forest Lawn. Jordan and Johnny, a neighbor friend, in the back, under the pergola, with other friends and family members spent hours working the soil, making a dream come true.

This was their way of saying goodbye, plants and planks in place, building  a better world.
Friendship lives in the acts we perform, the joy we bring to each other, the memories we build.

Today, we are all miles away, but the act of building was real and gave us tangible results.
This is the scene that is etched in my brain when I think about Brian.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Parting thoughts for my son.

No matter where I go, You'll be with me, Brian.
Your smile will give me support, and your sense of wonder
will buoy me till my ending days.
This is where we'll rest together, on the Port Orford Heads, overlooking the Pacific.

At your funeral last Saturday, people spoke about your work with other scientists at L3. I learned about the work you did with satellite communications, work I did not understand when you tried to explain it to me. Strange. Strange that you knew more than I, that you had so many friends I had never met, that your life was full and wondrous.

You loved and were loved. Everyone will miss your smile, your warmth, your loyalty, your playfulness.
You found the love of your life in Janet. She'll miss you deeply.
The  garden Janet designed and organized  to memorialize your life, brought hundreds of people together to clean, amend, paint, dig, built, plant, and leave a lasting legacy to the life you lived so fully, so richly. Your Dad and I, your siblings, your friends and your lovely Janet will miss you till the end of our days.
You lived a rich and purposeful life, the way your father and I hoped you did.

You made us all very, very happy to have known you.
May you rest in peace.