Tuesday, November 24, 2009

new song

I heard this song and I am really not fond of the new Brandi Carlile album-yet. But for some reason this song really spoke to me, especially in regards to my weekend in Chicago at the NCA convention. That was a really hard weekend. I think as I wrote to someone (a great friend) recently, sometimes it is important to apologize even if you unintentionally hurt someone, because you hurt them, the reason doesn't matter. And I have felt that I have been apologizing a lot lately, for various reasons. But I am done now-for awhile. One person can only apologize so many times before it makes them break. However, that weekend I felt like a really shitty person, a bad feminist, and a terrible scholar. But I am hearing this song and it is my song for that weekend. Probably should have heard it before I broke.


Before it Breaks, Brandi Carlile


Around here, it's the hardest time of year
Waking up, the days are even gone
The collar of my coat
Lord help me, cannot help the cold
The raindrops sting my eyes
I keep them closed.

But I'm feelin' no pain
I'm a little lonely and my quietest friend
Have I the moonlight? Have I let you in?
Say it aint so, say I'm happy again

Say it's over, say I'm dreaming,
Say I'm better than you left me
Say you're sorry, I can take it
Say you'll wait, say you won't
Say you love me, say you don't
I can make my own mistakes
Let it bend before it breaks

I'm all right. Don't I seem to be?
Aren't I swinging on the stars?
Don't I wear them on my sleeve?
When you're looking for a crossroads,
It happens every day
And whichever way you turn,
I'm gonna turn the other way

Say it's over, say I'm dreaming,
Say I'm better than you left me
Say you're sorry, I can take it
Say you'll wait, say you won't
Say you love me, say you don't
I can make my own mistakes
Learn to let it bend before it breaks

Say it's over say I'm dreaming,
Say I'm better than you left me
Say you're sorry, I can take it
Say you'll wait, say you won't
Say you love me, say you don't
I can make my own mistakes
Let it bend before it breaks

--

video


Sunday, November 8, 2009

blogging: or neglecting to blog

I realize I haven't written since Jim's death. At least not on this blog my performance blog
This quarter has been hard. Grief is hard. Especially ambiguous and ambivalent grief. My classes hard and painful. Maybe one day I will post some of my journal in my other blog.

Living in Denver has its ups and downs. I dearly miss my mountains and the peace and relief they give to me. But I like city life, things open past 8 p.m., drinks and dinner with friends, being able to actually get work done because I don't have to drive as much.

I love my job. I work with students in one-on-one consultations where I collaborate with students on how to make their writing improve. I have learned a lot of things myself about my own writing and how I need to improve on some of what I am and have been doing. I really love it, it is very satisfying.

I take my comp exams in about two weeks and I am scared. Scared shitless. I am not prepared, my readings (articles, books etc) are a mess. I have to move my things back to my house in EP for a month or so.

But I am also going to the Bay area. I love that place I have such happy memories although I have only been there one time. That is my treat to myself. My desire is to travel more even if it is just to visit friends in the U.S. I don't need to go anywhere big to feel as though I am at the very least not stagnant.

I have felt it very hard to write. My body feels to raw almost too painful. It will come back one day. One day soon.

I leave for Chicago on Thursday to present at the National Communication Association conference. Another thing I am super nervous about.

So there is a short but sweet update. Me in a nutshell.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Jim's memorial

Weds. was my stepfather's funeral. it was one of the saddest and hardest moments of my entire life and my mother wanted me to speak and do part of the family eulogy. It was extremely hard but I thought sort of profound. I realized how different it is losing a grandparent as opposed to a parent. Once one's parents begin to pass it becomes very very serious. At least to me. And very real. while i think death can be peaceful it is also scary how fast it can come on. Smash an aunt, see a coyote carrying a piece of dead animal carcass, or one's body becoming a toxic waste dump. It can move so fast and that is scary. While I wanted death to be fast and I wanted that to be wish, i cry now for maybe wishing it too soon. Anyway, I decided to post the eulogy I read in between the tears and choking back the sobs.
--

I am Kathryn Hobson and I am Dawn’s daughter and for all intensive purposes Jim’s stepdaughter. I know we have heard from so many and I do not want to put you through too much more, but I want to pay tribute to Jim and his life with my mother and our family, and his life and friends in Estes Park. However, I have found that my own words seem to skim the surface of what he meant to these people. So I am sharing their words in order to make up for my lack.

From Meghan:

When I think about Jim and they type of person he was, the following words come to mind:


Honesty
Compassion
Love

If I let my mind wander, there's always more words I can find that fit the person Jim was, but these were the first words I thought of, so for me, they were the ones that Jim helped teach me the meaning of. These words were more than just values that Jim carried with him everywhere - they were his actions. And although Jim's actions were hardly ever over the top or grandiose, you knew that everything he did came from a place of sincerity.

I had the fortunate opportunity to be a part of the family and home that Jim and Dawn created a few years ago, but the most profound memories I have of Jim were ones where I spent time with him, Dawn, Kathryn, and Liana. Most of these moments surrounded running basic errands or sitting down for a meal. But it was in these everyday moments that I bore witness to something truly amazing. I saw a father who loved his daughters, and a husband who loved his wife. I saw a man who was willing to accept anyone and everyone for who they were. He met you were you were at, and walked beside you as you grew into the person you are today. Jim took me into his home and his family because Dawn and Kathryn had asked him to. He did not know anything about me, but he accepted me from day one. He treated me just like I was another part of his ever expanding family, but I did not ever feel insignificant or unimportant. Quite the opposite really - whenever I was around Jim, he made me feel like I was the most important.

From Jane:

The thing I will miss most about Jim is the way he used to pick on me. He would always find something to tease me about. The artichoke dip, the soufflé, and whether or not I had seen any monkeys lately. I will miss these moments.

From Donna

The Selfless Servant by Jamie Sams

The selflesss servant remembers

the challenges along the way,

but meets each Sun with wonder,

the pleasure of greeting the day.

The joy that fuels the selfless heart

is seeing the changes that come

to every weary traveler that hears

the heart song of Earth Mother's drum.

Affecting the lives of those in need,

With a smile or a helping hand,

brings unseen rewards to the heart

that the selfish do not understand.

Returning to others a percentage

of the abundance we have known

is the sacred wisdom of sharing,

a gift of the seeds we have sown.

Where do we find these servants,

Who choose to selflessly give?

They stand with the Wisdom Keeper,

having remembered,

that to give is to live!

From Lilly:

My favorite memory of Jim would have to be in the mornings. When he would wake me up in the early morning around 6:30 saying time to get up, time to get up. And then later while I was getting ready he would count down how many minutes I would have until we left to school. He would say 20 minutes Mabel and then 15 minutes or 8. I loved waking up to him in the morning, and hearing him blow his nose so loud it would cause an avalanche on Longs Peak.

From John:

Ascension, Colleen Corah Hitchcock

And if I go, 
while you're still here... 
Know that I live on, 
vibrating to a different measure 
--behind a thin veil you cannot see through. 
You will not see me, 
so you must have faith. 
I wait for the time when we can soar together again, 
--both aware of each other. 
Until then, live your life to its fullest. 
And when you need me, 
Just whisper my name in your heart, 
...I will be there.

From anonymous:

I guess in the end I am just lucky to have known him

From Jerry:

In his life time, Jim Martinsen was wise enough and kind enough to lend us, for time immemorial, his good senses about life and how it should be lived. He lays dead but his counsel hardly so! When the grade is steep and treacherous, he will counsel us to dig in and throttle up. When the grade is soft and gentle, he will pour us a glass of wine and raise it towards the heavens. When we reach our own deathbeds, he will call us to relax and join the gentle waters flowing in a direction other than what we have known. You see, Jim Martinsen was more than a husband, father or friend --he was an engineer; he was a planner and a man who could transform a dream into a deed. We need men like him. He gives a whole new meaning to the concept of "after-life"

From me:

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 how he liked to blast the air conditioner in the car, or how he owned a canoe he never used. I will never forget how he and I could run a game of hearts when we played on a team together, practically able to read each other’s minds. I will miss the way that I can no longer just stick a letter on the counter and that it will magically disappear, I will miss that the recycling used to just get done, and that he never complained when I snuck bags of trash into the dumpster. And most of all I will never forget the way he saved me and took care of my mother and I will be eternally grateful for that.

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

From Dawn:

I will miss you as the days grow short

And the nights grow long,

I will miss watching the hawks circle our house

As we sat outside on the warm summer evenings

I will miss eating dinner while the snow swirls around

The dining room windows

I will miss the sounds of your making coffee

And the sounds of your quietness

As we spent long lovely quiet days together

I will miss playing cribbage, watching college football and late night movies and

I will miss our good night couple ritual of hugging and exchanging “love you’s “

And most of all

I will miss the empty side of your bed every morning

As I wake to face every day.

And now…

Jill will sing a song that at least to me and hopefully to others here holds some special memories of the last few weeks of Jim’s life.

--

I like to think that this was my performative eulogy, but I am not really sure I did all of these people justice, I hope I did.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

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.”

--

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

--


Sunday, August 23, 2009

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.
--

--

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!
--

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.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

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.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

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?