July Memories....

July has become a pensive and reminiscing month for me.
My father’s birthday was July 3 and my mother’s is today, July 31.
Dad would have been 87, Mom 89.
I think of them both with gratitude on a daily basis; they live in my heart.

Next month it will be two years since my mother died.
For dad, in May, it became 9 years.

Where has the time gone?
The clock is ticking.
Live in the moment.
Where did it all go?
The past is past.
It’s a cliché life.
I ponder my own mortality.

Memories of bringing mom to live in Seattle remain with me.

In January 2004, I wrote the following about a phrase that mom often used (bad "poetry" I know, but it serves a release purpose at certain times!):

“This is this and this is that”.

Standing together at the dryer,
Sorting through the clothes-
This is this and this is that.

Your underwear, my shirts
You fold like a Nordstrom’s professional.
I ask the Tarot reader “is it legal to ask how long”?
The answer is:
Not too soon and not too long.
This is this and this is that.

We’re dancing and we’ve exchanged places.
There’s no “how to” manual.
There never is.
Because, now, you identify all things as:
This is this and this is that.

Some months later, a new entry in response to the many phone calls and messages I would receive. At that time, she still could dial my number. Later I so regretted that she no longer knew what a phone was or even cared.

Ring…..ring….ring…..
Sorry, we’re not home……
Hello? Hello? Hello?
Helloooo. Yooooo hoooo; hello…?
It’s your sister; no lover; no mom.
Please call me. Please call me.

And another:

It’s Saturday night and we’re dancing,
Cutting a rug to Lawrence Welk.
“Oh, he’s not still alive?"
Laughter.
Just a few hours earlier I helped you with your fork and cut your food.

Parenting can be a tricky thing. I think that I finally became a “grown up” when I quit judging my parents and realized that they did the best they could with the skills they had for their life experiences and times. I never doubted their love for me. That’s a pretty good place to be.
With a catch in my throat, I am thinking of you today, my "parental units".

Friends and Family Come Together....

This past week became time to come together to formally bid farewell, speak our remembrances, and cry our tears over the loss of Ken Ross. It's losses such as this that led Kim and me to go to Italy and now that we are back, we once again confront the losses that sent us away. So, as the old saying goes, "wherever you go, there you are"....Try as I might, it's time to really confront the loss of Ken's departure.

These memorials are for us, the living, to grapple with the unfathomable and to take in the inevitable. A good way to do this is through the company of great friends, great food and great music. Partner, John, put on a wonderful memorial that with such attention to detail reflected his love for Ken and paid tribute to both Ken and his family.

Ken Ross. June 1, 1951 - January 28, 2008

Music to comfort and soothe.

Ken called John, "John Boy" and John called Ken, "Kennyboy"

Friends remember.

So how do we cope?

We cry and force ourselves to smile.

A friend tries to take it all in...

A Mother wonders and ponders....

A sister works on coming to terms...

Your departure has wounded your little brother....

"Why"? seemed so close to everyone's lips.

A saddened family remains solid, forcing a smile to carry on because "he'd want them to".
But maybe they just don't want to right now.

Ken's family via John; nephew, Shane.

John and niece, Jessica.

And Monkey.

Flowers comfort our senses...

Food our souls.

John's garden is a living, ongoing tribute to you....

Ken, you are remembered with symbols...
Tabasco Sauce will never again be shaken without thinking of you.

A hand of??? God? Strength? You were always lending your hand.
I could count on you.

Now I can't even have a simple cup of coffee without missing you.

Where are you?

Why did you have to go!!!???

The book isn't large enough. Can I carry it around with me because I think of you about every 20 seconds? I called you "Big Brother" and meant it. I think that always surprised you and perhaps even made you feel a little nervous. Too bad; your fault. That's who you became to me.
"I will always love you". (Dolly Parton--I'm sure you hated her music. Deal with it).

A Sweet Young Texan Encounters Seattle....

Lucky me. Fourteen year old niece Rachel, on her way to connecting with other family members for a trip down the California coast, stopped in Seattle for a quick visit.
Rachel is teaching herself how to play the guitar so the perfect place to visit was the Experience Music Project--a museum created by billionaire and music aficionado Paul Allen.

In addition to the music portion, the museum houses a big Science Fiction section and also were having a special exhibit on Jim Henson of Muppet fame.

It's a curvy, wacky outside design that has grown on the city of Seattle over time.

First, to the music section!

A tribute to the late Michael Jackson--one of his famous gloves and outfits.

Assorted guitars that caught Rachel's eye and made her drool a bit....

Her favorite Gibson electric, number something or other.

The museum has an emphasis on the word "experiential" and here Rachel takes advantage of the opportunity.

At one point, I stepped away to an outside lobby to rest my tired feet.
While out there, I heard someone really getting down and jamming.
After a few minutes I walked back in and guess who it was???

Rachel told me that people would stop by and asking her how long she'd been playing....

Boys too, who when they say "it was a girl" walked away grumbling.

In addition to jamming, we took in old friends such as R2D2....

and our buddies, Bert and Ernie.

Later, at home Rachel and Dan traded music tips and favorite musician names back and forth.
As for me, I knew no one they were talking about but was happy just to watch and listen.

Pretty special to have such a beautiful and talented young niece named after me.
As I already mentioned, lucky, lucky me.