How one punch...

Remember the movie "It's a Wonderful Life"?
Remember how George, the main character played by Jimmy Stewards,  finds that his life is too hard and considers ending it?
Then, he meets an angel, who shows him how George's life is affecting so many people around him. Yes, yes and yes! So many people are touched by us, by simple things in our midst that we never think about.

I'm looking at our lives right now after Brian's passing.  Even though I will never know what actually happened the night he was hit, many people saw the assault, and they will think about the event and how it could have been different, both for Brian, for his friends, for the very person that gave him that mortal blow.  All those young people will be affected by that event, for days, for months.  They will talk about it, will warn their friends and relatives, will associate the one punch in anger as the fatal blow that forever changed their lives too.

One punch to the face.

The family and immediate friends came together and had a memorial. But, Brian's many co-workers and even his animals were not aware of how their lives would change forever in just a few days.  Projects had to be re-assigned, paperwork redirected, appointments and schedules changed. I know this because I had Brian's daily calendar with me after we picked it up at the police station, and there were reminders going off all the time.  Our boy's high tech phone scheduled, reminded him of times and places needing him, paid his bills, navigated him to places he had never been to, even listed the grocery needs he had.

I'm looking at his life in awe. He had officiated at one of his friend's wedding; he had applied for a patent, had just solved a major problem with a device he was building. He had saved every penny to buy a house. Had done so because he wanted a dog! Then, his nesting instincts kicked in and he looked for the love of his life.  His life was full of exciting possibilities slowly turning into realities.

Hi dog Butters is with a young friend in Long Beach, across the street from her old house. His cat Newkie is with us, in a home surrounded by giant trees and water. She's adjusting, cuddling up on Brian's blankets we brought up with us.

I'm not mentioning the obvious: how his fiance' life has changed! How everything she was dreaming has changed. Choosing a life partner, building dreams and envisioning your future are at the heart of human endeavors. The cost of this loss to her is limitless!

I'm not counting all the expenses that come with this event. Not just for the funeral, for the Memorial, for the settling of his estate. I'm thinking about the cost of investigating, preparing for the trial, court time, legal representation. I'm thinking about all the people who will miss their work, their families, their other obligations.

I can imagine how his neighbors in Long Beach feel every time they see Butters on a walk, at the dog park, chasing a ball.

I know my neighbors here in Oregon all know the fragility of life; they are mostly senior citizens, used to seeing a moving truck disassemble a household after someone dies at 90.

We are not used to seeing a young man's life disassembled!

What lives on...

We live on in each other's memories, each other's stories and images. We live on and on and on...
I think about all the people I've known, all the people I've loved, and not a day passes when I don't feel them around me, a hand on my shoulder, a smile directed at me, a look from their faces to remind me of how we were together, how we touched each other's lives.

We have a tough time with death.
We have difficulty with the concept of Ending.
The place is dark and airless.

We become obsessed with grief.
We tend to retreat from others.

Yet, a sketch like this one, shared by a friend, brings smiles and wink=wink-knowledge of the good times, images we can embrace to get us to a more solid path.

Thank you to all Brian's and Janet's friends who came by the house day after day to make the garden a reality. Thank you to all of you who joined us at the Memorial Plank Ceremony.  Thank you to those of you who left kind words to soothe our soul. Thank you to those of you who contributed money/resources to make the garden a reality. The experience that Janet, his fiance, had envisioned, became a beautiful reality. The coming together of friends and families who go back to kindergarten days in Woodland Hills was most healing.

Your love helped us deal with the dark place of Ending.

We are back in Oregon as of this posting, with Newkie, Brian's cat. She cuddles up nicely, and enjoys our company. We haven't even unpacked the many boxes we took with us, boxes that contain a rich and meaningful life.
We are safe for now, among friends.
We'll forge ahead, one small step at a time.

(If you want to see pictures of the Memorial Garden, visit me or Janet Lee, or Brian Williams on Facebook)

Death doesn't make appointments.

I've become increasingly cautious about little things. I turn off all the burners and the lights when I leave the kitchen; check the refrigerator doors for tight closure; lock the front door; move any items that might block our quick exit in an emergency; make sure our night lights are all functioning, especially the ones that guide us to and from the bathrooms.  Yes, my money can be hijacked; my computer can crash; my tender shoots freeze; my skin wrinkle without moisturizers, but our exit, if required, will be smooth and beautifully executed!

Creepy? Not in my neighborhood. In the morning we saw Joe push the lawnmower in his front yard; by evening, Joe had joined his ancestors.  And Joe was younger than most, and in relative good health.

Less than a year ago a wonderful poet in our Bandon Writers' group died without much fanfare.
Bob Cohen was younger than me! He ended up on the Oregon Coast by way of Chicago, Portland, and many other places.  His voice, his presence, is missed. His words, though, his art, lives on.

Later today, I'll be posting a poem on my other blog,  Notes, tales.  You may want to find his work in libraries and bookstores, and enjoy all that he has written.

Death sends us reminder notices this way.
So, be sure you've done what you intend to do with your life.
Be sure your work is what you want it to be.

Living past 100!

"....The first thing I want to tell you is that no matter your age now, you will be old, you will be infirm, you will have fewer resources than you have now, and you cannot avoid that state."

We started our conversation knowing that our life is a limited one. Today, the oldest man died at 113. Count your days ahead. If I live that long, I still have another sixty years ahead. A lifetime in my father's days. I have not planned that far.

I read somewhere that we should live as though we'd die tomorrow; and we should plan to live to 100. And planning is a noble, and human activity. Animals plan too. Squirrels,bear, salmon, plan to fulfill their potential, to live and procreate, each according to their basic nature. Animals may dream too. If you study bees, they plan to support the hive until the bitter end.

We plan for some things quite well. We plan our financial future-except during this economic meltdown. We plan our children's future. WE even plan our recreational and social activities. Most of you who have retired are enjoying good health and relative freedom to do all the activities you enjoy. Those who didn't plan and consumed more than they made have no one to blame. Of course, there are exceptions for those who have been struck by debilitating illnesses, and other circumstances beyond their abilities to control, such as earthquakes, hurricanes, famine, pestilence, war.

Our ignorance, our naivete, and our own inability to accept responsibilities have played major roles in our life course. We didn't get ice-cream for breakfast from our parents, how can we justify poor eating habits now they we are adults?



We don't do so well planning the future of our communities. We stay wrapped in our own problems, fail to stay involved. We live with blinders on: as long as a problem doesn't touch us now, who cares?

"I don't have children in school, why do I have to pay school taxes?"

In the traditions of many native tribes here in America, decisions and planning were made with an eye to future generations. Seven generations, to be exact. In seven generations, all of our children would be related to all of your children.

So, today, our conversation should be about planning to live to 113; and to support the efforts of seven generations hence.



p.s. The folks above are my daughter Pia and her husband Jason, and his folks during the weekend of the 4th, plus my hubby. When we get together, we share music and merry making. I was taking the pictures.

To be, or not to be....

A couple of days ago, a famous conductor and his ballerina wife from England, a devoted couple, decided to take their lives. One was ill; the other was not. Together, they traveled to a clinic in Switzerland where they could receive assistance for their decision.

Here in Oregon, just a few months ago, we voted for a law that allows people, at the end of their lives, to make decisions about dying. It passed with a good majority.

This state will also fine you stiffly if you hit an animal on the highway and drive off. It will fine you heavily if you step on grassland that protects snowy plovers. It will fire you from public office if you hunt or fish without a license, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. It has more protection for wild life than most other states.

When life is coming to an end, what is there to do? I want to make that decision if I'm conscious. If I'm not, I want to leave directives so my family doesn't have to fight over what is the best thing to do. At a point when my life is not worth living, I want to give my goodbyes to the world and go peacefully into that dark night.