To My Big J

I have walked with many fathers

And none

You were one of them

You have given so much

to so many

And you are dearly loved

Thank you so much for all you have done

Even when I have been a pain in the ass

I promise to keep being smart in school

And keep getting A’s.

Love always,

Your Big K

I'd like to leave you with something valuable, he said. You probably already have, I said, but we take most of our lives to remember that, even in the best of times. Brian Andreas, “Best of Times.”

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My stepfather passed away today at 3:50, one year to the date that my grandmother passed away. I've declared that from now on this day should not exist on calendars and I plan to crack open a bottle of Shiraz and play cards (Shiraz for Jim and cards for he and my grandmother) and celebrate them both. They were both people of great faults but the love they showed for so many is something worth remembering. I will never forget Jim's smile, his "What do you say________?," His "Kathryn how are you" emphasis on the are, I will never forget the way he saved me and took care of my mother and I, how he liked the car to be really cold, how he owned a canoe he never used, how he and I could run a game of hearts really well when we partnered together, how he let pretty much any riff raff into the house, his positive energy, and that he never had to say I love you because really I just knew.

A friend of mine said he was an enlightened being and that he ascended. I like to believe that's true even if I don't believe much in that spiritual stuff. Because he did a lot of really good things for a lot of people.

--

I have walked with many fathers and none

You were one of them

We walked together

Through some rough times

You and I

But we have always walked

Most places together

and I think in the end

That's what really matters

--

Brett Dennen: A man full of love

So last weekend I went to the Rocky Mountain Folks Festival and had a blast. We got free backstage passes, something our friends were extremely jealous of. Backstage allowed us access to food, cheap beers, and very close seating. In fact we were first or second row pretty much the entire day.

Obviously things in my life have been really chaotic as my last blog posts have all dealt with death and the pain of losing someone I love. But this day really helped me to remember how much love there is in the world. It is very cheesy-but it's true. There are a lot of people in the world who care deeply not just about issues but about people. There have been times this summer when I have seen the worst in most people-seen people with very little to no soul. I have seen people ravage my family and squelch them. I have seen friends hurt in ways that are unimaginable. I have seen disease take over someone's body. It's scary how much evil there appears to be at times.

But there has also been a lot of love this summer. A lot of reconnecting-re-coming together. A lot of love has been shown to people. And that was truly what Folks Fest was celebrating this year. A coming together of people to try and bring the love back into our relationships with others. (I feel very bell hooksian right now-with the love and all.)

First there were monks who performed some ritualized songs and chants and meditations. It felt very spiritual even if I am not an extremely spiritual person. Then Ellis, one of my absolute favorite performers from the Twin Cities performed an awesome set. Her music is so amazing because it is all about living in the moment, breathing, and just being. And she is just a great story teller. I can't wait until they put her on the main stage.

--

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But the really great part of the day was seeing Brett Dennen someone who I hadn't really listened to a whole lot prior. Talk about the queerest most endearing and eccentric individual I have ever seen performing live music. I mean the dude used to be a camp counselor and he is seriously quare looking. I thought he was just another Jason Mraz or John Mayer-but the boy has some serious moves and charisma! And he is just full of love and wanting to change the world. It was just surreal to be so close to him and in his presence. These are just samples.

--

There is so much more, BD

When I heard the news,
My heart fell on the floor
I was on a plane on my way to Baltimore
In these trouble times its hard enough as it is
My soul has a known a better life than this

I wonder how so many can be in so much pain,
While others dont seem to feel a thing
Then I curse my whiteness,
and I get so damn depressed,
In a world with suffering,
Why should I be so blessed?

I heard about a women who lives in Colorado,
She built a monument of sorts behind the garage door
Where everyday she prays for all whom are born
And all whose souls have passed on
Sometimes my trouble gets so thick
I can't see how Im gonna get through it
but then I'd rather be stuck up in a tree
Then be tied to it

There is so much more.

I don't feel comfortable witt the way my clothes fit
I cant get used to my bodys limits
I got some fancy shoes to try and giggle away these blues
They cost a lot of money but they arent worth a thing
I wanna free my feet from the broken glass and concrete
I need to get out of this city
Lay apon the ground stare a hole in the sky
Wondering where I go when I die
When I die.

--

And this one being all about love...

The One Who Loves You the Most, BD

When the sky is falling from above you
And the wind is raging from the coast
And you want someone who truly loves you
I will be the one who loves you the most

When the masquerades in burlesque falls
But come too ordinary to boast
You complain about the rain and hurting calls
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most

When the women with their stolen graces
Don't invite you to play host
To their daughters with fake faces
I will be the one who loves you the most

When all the debutants desert you
All the doorways are all closed
And all the harlequins who've hurt you
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most

When you'll suit a sneering swank beside you
And leave you hollow like a ghost
And you just want somebody to come find you
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most

When you forgive your imperfections
And you've auctioned all your clothes
And you look to see your true reflection
You will be the one who loves you the most
You will be the one who loves you the most
You will be the one who loves you the most

--

I mean check out those moves! And let him remind you that YOU are the one who loves you the most!

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Oh and then I climbed a mountain. Bringing me a little closer to myself and pushing my body beyond what it knows and comprehends. It reminded me that I love myself the most fer sure. And right now that is maybe the most important thing.

It's hard to say what is worse

I can't even write.

Every time I try to compose a thought in my brain, I can't. It's always incomplete, what I am thinking and feeling.

It's life. Bad things happen. I feel like this is the mantra people have been shouting at me loud and clear. But it still sucks.

And I have been here before. And it still sucks. Having experience doesn't make death easier. Having experience doesn't make life that much easier either.

and I can't write. and this is what happened last time. Write they tell you, when you are stressed and need to get things off your chest. But I can't. I can't write when I feel this way. Like a ball of endless tension and energy is invading my stomach wanting to explode from me. But it doesn't. It stays bottled up-stored away for another day another time.

I wish it was fast. This dying thing. When it is slow and you have to think about it, have to care for someone experiencing it, there is no good way to be. Except to ball up this tension, this energy. Store it away for another day.

I wish it was fast. This dying thing.

singing songs in sacred circle

As some of you may know my stepfather was diagnosed with Pancreatic cancer and due to the nature of pancreatic cancer and when it is detected through symptoms it is untreatable. The doctors have given him 2-6 months to live although some I have talked with tend to gauge that as on the low side. But better to shoot low than two high and end up with disappointed family members. Because of this rapid decline in his health he has been having several visitors-family and friends wishing to see him before things get too ugly or sad or depressing.

With this came his children from his second marriage and is grandchild. It also brought his sister from Toronto (I believe) and his cousin. It became a mini family reunion of sorts. Needless to say the week was filled with some interesting times and some really beautiful and strong memories.

To begin with, it is hard to recognize why all of these people are coming, I shouldn't say "these" people, just people in general. It is hard to recognize that during the fun times, the laughs, the tears, why we all ended up here together. But I do believe that things happen maybe not for a reason, but as they should, or even better as we will them to.

I will never forget the beautiful moment: We had all just gotten back from horseback riding, which, I have to admit was the worst ride I have ever gone on. The scenery sucked and consised mainly of the low-income and assisted-living arrangements is Estes Park, which are both fine places, but I don't need to pay money to see them. And our tour guide started off on the wrong foot from the beginning, criticizing Obama, for a "methane tax." Now I don't care one's political views one way or another (o.k. that isn't totally true), but please, Please, PUH-LEASE, do not share them with me while I am on a touristy trail ride at your ranch. Needless to say he made no tip from our group of hippie, progressive, mainly Obama-supporting group.

But afterwards, when we are gathered at my mother's house for dinner something sort of magical happened. My stepfather was on the couch, surrounded by his daughter, her husband cooking in the kitchen, his two sons, one with girlfriend, ex-wife, sister and children, Jill busted out her guitar. She had been playing some folk-y favorites from a song book from my stepfather's daughter, when she was asked to play Indigo Girls, "that Galileo song" in fact.

So she began playing and those of us who knew the song which, were quite a few, began to sing along. "How long 'til my soul gets it right, did any human being ever reach that kind of light?" My stepfather began to tear up, my mother wailing with tears, and all of us singing this song. "I call on the resting soul of Galileo king of night vision, king of insight."

Bittersweetness. Beautiful music, with eery subtext. At least my thoughts, wandering to when and if we would ever be sitting in a circle like this, complete. Wondering if we could ever sing this song again and not think of that moment. That moment when the affect was palpable, the tensions between fear and beauty were alive, and yet dying. Wondering what will happen when my stepfather leaves, if we will all still be family able to sit and sing and just be with one another?

"How long til my soul gets it right?" We all have to ask ourselves that question. Is there a time when we get it right? Right enough to be ok with resting one's soul?