Thankful

For family,
for friends,
for love,
for health,
for home,
for work,
for soaring mountains,
for clean crisp air,
for black cats,
for kiddles,
for music,
for books,
for simple things,
for every day,
I am thankful.

Seeing Red

Yes, I did. Stood in line for an hour for the honor. Consoled myself with thoughts of people around the world who aren't allowed the priviledge and it is a big one, right up there with freedom of speech.

Still, Nevada choose red as it's favorite color for the most part. I can't help but see results and think....ahhh....yawn...business as usual...good ole boys network wins again. Heartened by the fact Congress may go democratic and that Nancy Pelosi could be the first female speaker of the house. Puzzled by the fact that California re-elected the governator. Hoping any change can speed up an end to the war in Iraq and bring our boys home.

Weekend In New England

Devin
January 31, 1984 - October 25, 2006




The post title is a Barry Manilow song. I know, I know but that is how my mind wrapped itself around a week in Massachusetts following a tragic turn of events for MMhusband's nephew, Devin. There was beautiful foliage on the downside of fall and everytime I rode in the car the grief and wistfulness of this song would fill my head. The beauty of New England in the fall coupled with mourning the loss of a beloved young man was heartwrenching.

I could tell you about the intermidable wait for the wake and funeral. The anguish, dread, and full blown grief apparent on my brother-in-law's face. The absolute unity of those who surrounded him and supported him. Tears, and tears, and tears. The feeling of time standing still and each day feeling like a week. The laser focus of being in the moment because nothing is more important than this minute...holding on, listening, providing food, making yet another pot of coffee, hugging, hurting and consoling.

I could tell you about the amazing line of people who came to pay their respects at the wake. A line of people that started at 3:00 pm and continued on steady until 6:00 pm. How amazingly a fractured family: mother, daughter, father came together to stand proud and stoic throughout the afternoon. The poise and graciousness a young woman radiated in the midst of grieving her brother. The sudden ease of understanding between a mother and father. A united front for the love of a son lost too soon.

I could tell you the funeral was a somber affair and that the hardest part was getting out of the house, acknowledging the finality of the next step. Those of us not of the Baptist persuasion tried to maintain respect and decorum in the midst of a pointed message about our souls and how to save them. There was music to spur the tears with a little "disco jesus" in there for whatever reason.

I could tell you it was bittersweet to listen to young men speak from the podium of friendship and love. Sadder still when those young men bore the coffin of their friend to its final resting place. To watch the overwhelming emotion spill from their eyes, no longer able to contain unbearable grief. Forced into adulthood in ways we try so hard to protect them from.

I could tell you that people came for two days to share condolences and food and to say a prayer for the dead in the evenings. That my brother-in-law talked openly and often: a change from his "close to the vest" ways and there was great relief that he felt protected and safe enough with us that he could open up.

I could tell you that most of us were running on 4 hours sleep a night and that giddy-ness would creep in and the cousins would gather in the dining room to recap the day, tell stories, and laugh, forging closer bonds with each other and feeling hope for healing, for life.

I can tell you that there was a red haired boy with a mischeavious glint in his eye and a heart of gold who will be remembered always. Rest in peace.

"Oh very young, what will you leave us this time?
You are only dancing on this earth for a short while."
-cat stevens-