who needs to interrupt a perfectly fine summer with a pulmonary vein ablation?! what a dumb idea. early fall is much better for heart surgery - every every every one knows that!
september 8th, i am thinking of you often. can't wait to see you.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
faulty equipment
there's a metaphor in here somewhere. or a reason at least. we tell ourselves there is a reason for everything. or at least i do, being one who is is frustrated when things don't make sense on the surface.
june 30th has turned itself into july 2nd, as some piece of equipment meant to fix my wires has gone bad and needs fixing, in order to fix me.
my countdown is ruined! everyone will pray on the wrong day! it was supposed to all be over by july 2nd! i do not like this change in plans!
oh hush. get some sleep. have some wine. plant something.
counting down to july 2nd...
june 30th has turned itself into july 2nd, as some piece of equipment meant to fix my wires has gone bad and needs fixing, in order to fix me.
my countdown is ruined! everyone will pray on the wrong day! it was supposed to all be over by july 2nd! i do not like this change in plans!
oh hush. get some sleep. have some wine. plant something.
counting down to july 2nd...
Thursday, June 26, 2008
it's a wonderful life
my favorite part of my favorite movie is when george bailey realizes he is alive after all, and screams his gratefulness, he can't wait to get home. problems are still tucked tight in his belt (along with zu zu's petals), but the important thing is, he has not missed out on having his life touched by so many, and likewise, he sees the way he has touched theirs.
dear george. there he is with his arm around mary in the living room, as friends and angels come forward one at a time, tossing dollar bills into the basket on the wrapping table, a flood of goodness that rose out of goodness.
i feel like that. all of your good wishes are pouring out of you and into me, into the creaky laundry basket that holds my heart, and i feel like i can't wait to get on with what is important, and take you all with me.
did you just hear a bell ring?
dear george. there he is with his arm around mary in the living room, as friends and angels come forward one at a time, tossing dollar bills into the basket on the wrapping table, a flood of goodness that rose out of goodness.
i feel like that. all of your good wishes are pouring out of you and into me, into the creaky laundry basket that holds my heart, and i feel like i can't wait to get on with what is important, and take you all with me.
did you just hear a bell ring?
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
oh, everything will be fine!
as lady barbara would say, "next week at this time it will ALL be over!" she said that about holidays, visits, surgeries, weddings, graduations, and any other event that is circled in red on the calendar. events that we plan for, look forward to, and dream about; as well as events we worry about, dread, lose sleep over. i here her voice in this anxious mind of mine, that next week at this time it will all be over.
i am touched by so many who are thinking good thoughts and tell me they will pray for me (note: i know some of you aren't prayers, so cut that out). but at the same time, the fiesty impossible me thinks to herself
"quit it! you don't know that it will be fine! what if i have a stroke on the table? or bleed out? or they nick the back of my throat with that electrode such that i can never breathe or swallow comfortably again?!" these are all possibilities. remote, but stated, and therefore, real.
baby brat, worry wart, negative nellie -- say what you need to say, call it like you see it, what a grumpus. this is all true, all these words describe me this day. i embrace my gloominess, at least for today.
meanwhile, please keep telling me that everything will be fine.
because next week at this time it will all be over.
i am touched by so many who are thinking good thoughts and tell me they will pray for me (note: i know some of you aren't prayers, so cut that out). but at the same time, the fiesty impossible me thinks to herself
"quit it! you don't know that it will be fine! what if i have a stroke on the table? or bleed out? or they nick the back of my throat with that electrode such that i can never breathe or swallow comfortably again?!" these are all possibilities. remote, but stated, and therefore, real.
baby brat, worry wart, negative nellie -- say what you need to say, call it like you see it, what a grumpus. this is all true, all these words describe me this day. i embrace my gloominess, at least for today.
meanwhile, please keep telling me that everything will be fine.
because next week at this time it will all be over.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
dizzy on purpose
when i was less than 10 my favorite summer thing to do was to throw my head back, arms out wide and spin and spin and twirl and twirl so fast and long, until i was so dizzy i would fall down. spread out flat on the ground i felt the surging waves of spin washing over me, around and around. it made me laugh when i saw the grass in the sky and the sky under my toes, lying there on that perfect lawn. i loved being dizzy when i was less than 10.
these days i am dizzy again. the sky is down and the ground is up and the horizon is never straight ahead, more likely behind. i can't help looking back at it and i hope that soon i will be able to see that same horizon in front of me, above my head as it sketches out my dreams. i wish to see all that i am walking towards. straight ahead, up high and very still, but for the breeze.
but dizzy is me. i haven't been spinning on purpose to feel this way-- instead i was plucked out of my comfortable safe place - the fragrant backyard of my life. i was dropped in the middle of a turn table - the kind that went missing in the late 80's. i am lying here spinning around in the middle of a record album, and once in a while i grab the spindle in the middle and i touch it just to know that there is a center somewhere.
it was a sunny afternoon today. a bench in the shade and lounging poses provided the perfect front row for admiring red wing blackbirds and baby ducks and fuzzy goslings. kids with ice cream and people walking their dogs. each and all with their own dance steps, a perfectly choreographed thursday afternoon.
why was i here and what are we celebrating? do tell me because i am spinning so fast. the day is approaching and i am not sure which end is up. so tell me why i have been invited to this shady spot on this lovely day...i am not dizzy on purpose like when i was small, but dizzy anyway, afterall.
we are celebrating just being here, just being here, they said.
and dizzy as i am, that is the perfect answer.
these days i am dizzy again. the sky is down and the ground is up and the horizon is never straight ahead, more likely behind. i can't help looking back at it and i hope that soon i will be able to see that same horizon in front of me, above my head as it sketches out my dreams. i wish to see all that i am walking towards. straight ahead, up high and very still, but for the breeze.
but dizzy is me. i haven't been spinning on purpose to feel this way-- instead i was plucked out of my comfortable safe place - the fragrant backyard of my life. i was dropped in the middle of a turn table - the kind that went missing in the late 80's. i am lying here spinning around in the middle of a record album, and once in a while i grab the spindle in the middle and i touch it just to know that there is a center somewhere.
it was a sunny afternoon today. a bench in the shade and lounging poses provided the perfect front row for admiring red wing blackbirds and baby ducks and fuzzy goslings. kids with ice cream and people walking their dogs. each and all with their own dance steps, a perfectly choreographed thursday afternoon.
why was i here and what are we celebrating? do tell me because i am spinning so fast. the day is approaching and i am not sure which end is up. so tell me why i have been invited to this shady spot on this lovely day...i am not dizzy on purpose like when i was small, but dizzy anyway, afterall.
we are celebrating just being here, just being here, they said.
and dizzy as i am, that is the perfect answer.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
save the peas!
at 10:00 last night i was at my desk writing down some special thoughts, with a glass of wine and a long smoke. suddenly the wind came up, dark and insistent, lifting the leaves on the trees like marilyn monroe's skirt when she posed on that vent in the 7 year itch. moments later mike was behind me, sleepy but wide awake and said, "i woke up just in time for the storm!"
we do enjoy sitting on the porch during a good storm.
and then a loud pop and then a crash that bellowed it's way between all of our houses and lawns and then
silence.
the lights went out and the ceiling fans took a final lap. the pattering sounds of the fountains went missing. darkness. but we who are lovers of candlelight took quick to our tasks - lighting oil lamps, collecting candles, pouring wine.
when morning came all was still and quiet and while supreme quiet is what some look for in the country, here in south minneapolis it is a spooky distraction.
the two lovers up the street were scratching their heads, accepting hugs from friends and moms and dads, and pulling out still -cold beers as they watched the men with tanned arms wield chain saws as they bounced up and down on cherry pickers. clear the trees, raise the power lines. "this will take quite a while ," the men from excel energy told us.
meanwhile, my favorite handyman got an idea. one hour later there was a rented generator in the back yard, and all of our freezers and refrigerators were humming. no loss of groceries from the frozen larders in this neighborhood. thirty minutes after that, mike was watching the twins on tv with a cold glass of wine and i was checking my email. extension cords rule.
not that we don't embrace an opportunity to celebrate the pioneer spirit, mind you, but as mike said over cocktails:
"the technology exists honey, don't be afraid to use it."
we do enjoy sitting on the porch during a good storm.
and then a loud pop and then a crash that bellowed it's way between all of our houses and lawns and then
silence.
the lights went out and the ceiling fans took a final lap. the pattering sounds of the fountains went missing. darkness. but we who are lovers of candlelight took quick to our tasks - lighting oil lamps, collecting candles, pouring wine.
when morning came all was still and quiet and while supreme quiet is what some look for in the country, here in south minneapolis it is a spooky distraction.
the two lovers up the street were scratching their heads, accepting hugs from friends and moms and dads, and pulling out still -cold beers as they watched the men with tanned arms wield chain saws as they bounced up and down on cherry pickers. clear the trees, raise the power lines. "this will take quite a while ," the men from excel energy told us.
meanwhile, my favorite handyman got an idea. one hour later there was a rented generator in the back yard, and all of our freezers and refrigerators were humming. no loss of groceries from the frozen larders in this neighborhood. thirty minutes after that, mike was watching the twins on tv with a cold glass of wine and i was checking my email. extension cords rule.
not that we don't embrace an opportunity to celebrate the pioneer spirit, mind you, but as mike said over cocktails:
"the technology exists honey, don't be afraid to use it."
Saturday, June 14, 2008
love always
the other night i had a dream about the first person i ever truly loved. his name was donny and he was my best friend's big brother. i was a sophmore and he was a senior and he was the drum major and one beautiful fall afternoon when i saw him marching at half-time i got a sick feeling when i realized how in love i was, and how i may never have him. he was very tall, platinum blond hair and blue eyes, a beautiful laugh and a deep bass voice. i did finally get my chance, and we were together for a little while, and suddenly he was gone, never calling me again. it hurt for so many years.
in the dream he was back and i didn't understand why after all these years, why now do you wish to love me, especially since i know now that you are gay? but there is a little shadow of love for him that i cherish still and always will. can't help it.
i wonder where love goes when we are done with it. for me, it doesn't goe anywhere, it stays tucked in a corner, but it never leaves. all the bad things that may infect or break it - those things fade and scar over, but the love never does, it stays little and small and safe, somewhere deep inside my heart.
a couple of weeks ago i sent a note to someone who was my best friend for many years. we so loved each other, but she is gone, too and i don't know why -- and with heart surgery on the horizon, i wanted to know. so i told her i missed her and how much i loved her and always had and always will and was hoping to make amends, but instead she wrote back saying she was sure the surgery would go well and by the way she has adopted 2 cats. where did her love for me go? i will never know. it seems to have left her heart, and i wonder how that can be when we felt it so strongly for so longly back then.
as you know, i think a lot about my heart these days, not only about how it is beating and what will happen when something warm and burning is poked into the center of it to heal the crazy beats and anxious rhythms. but i also have been examining every corner of it, and visiting all the loves that are small and quiet, forever asleep but not forgotten. and then i think about all the other loves, the big ones - center stage, bright and embracing, the ones that will never grow smaller, only stronger.
and i hope with all of that love in there, that dr. gorman can find the room he needs for that catheter to burn my wires. hope he doesn't burn anything he oughtn't.
turns out it is pretty crowded in there.
in the dream he was back and i didn't understand why after all these years, why now do you wish to love me, especially since i know now that you are gay? but there is a little shadow of love for him that i cherish still and always will. can't help it.
i wonder where love goes when we are done with it. for me, it doesn't goe anywhere, it stays tucked in a corner, but it never leaves. all the bad things that may infect or break it - those things fade and scar over, but the love never does, it stays little and small and safe, somewhere deep inside my heart.
a couple of weeks ago i sent a note to someone who was my best friend for many years. we so loved each other, but she is gone, too and i don't know why -- and with heart surgery on the horizon, i wanted to know. so i told her i missed her and how much i loved her and always had and always will and was hoping to make amends, but instead she wrote back saying she was sure the surgery would go well and by the way she has adopted 2 cats. where did her love for me go? i will never know. it seems to have left her heart, and i wonder how that can be when we felt it so strongly for so longly back then.
as you know, i think a lot about my heart these days, not only about how it is beating and what will happen when something warm and burning is poked into the center of it to heal the crazy beats and anxious rhythms. but i also have been examining every corner of it, and visiting all the loves that are small and quiet, forever asleep but not forgotten. and then i think about all the other loves, the big ones - center stage, bright and embracing, the ones that will never grow smaller, only stronger.
and i hope with all of that love in there, that dr. gorman can find the room he needs for that catheter to burn my wires. hope he doesn't burn anything he oughtn't.
turns out it is pretty crowded in there.
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