Monday, February 7, 2011

Another Day

Rainy, gray, chilly.
Patter, patter, patter.
Colin's obit in the paper. Simple words, facts, might have come from one of his spread sheets, but the one titled, "A Life With Laughs And Love."
Check, check, check.

The words are blocked in my throat this morning. Does that happen to you? What compels me to sit here every day and force myself to put words down, to stream them from brain and heart and soul? Nothing. The joy of it. That's all. All rivers flow to the sea, this is mine. This is my river, mine alone, and some days it is a pure, flowing creek in the woods, some days it is a wide, great shining thing, some days it is a muddy ditch but always, it is mine.

This is what I just wrote to my idol, Ms. Sarcastic Bastard-Beloved:

I just keep wondering about Colin's Levis. Isn't that silly? He almost always wore a pair of very clean, very faded Levis. I imagine he had a closet full, all perfectly faded and washed and folded and that he wore them in strict rotation. He could make a pair of Levis look grand. He moved with a lot of grace. He smiled all the time. He laughed like the joke was only between us, deep and throaty and somewhat insinuating and it was so beautiful and I got to hear it less than a week ago, that laugh.
I'm so damn glad.

Should I quit writing about Colin? No. Not if that's what I want to write about.
But even as I paddle around here in the salty tears water of today's river, I know there is so much sweetness. I know there is so much life, even if the day is gray, even if the rain patters down.
There is so much to do and part of that is getting ready for Steel Magnolias. Today is Clothes-Half-Price Day at the Goodwill which would be a good day to go get my costumes ready. I remember Colin and how the show must go on and how the program for Steel will say that this play is dedicated to him. I think about the night he showed up onstage, two days after his eye was removed, wearing his white shirt, his bow tie. He'd taken a Tylenol, just in case his eye began to hurt. No. His eye was gone, as he pointed out. It could not hurt. A Tylenol.

The show must go on, so must life. And when a dear one leaves us behind, we hold on to each other more tightly. We remember how precious this whole thing is, how incredibly blessed we are to walk on this stage, to throw our lines back and forth, to laugh with real joy, and yes, to cry together too.
Tears are part of the river which flows to the sea.

We can cry and not drown. We can laugh and not be disrespectful. We can reach out and say, I love you, come hold me close. Let us float together down this river, let us walk together on the boards of this old stage, let us make up our lines as we go but let us always remember to fill them with truth and to remember that truth can be joyful as well as cruel.

That's what I'm thinking about this morning. This is my river-flowing-to-the-sea, the great blue sea which is, on the very best days, the color of faded Levis, the color of Colin's twinkling blue eye.


  1. handandspirit- You have no idea how sweet those words are to me. Thank-you.

  2. My Uncle died last week too so I feel your pain. Sounds like Colin was just as great as my Uncle.

  3. I don't know how you string the words together so that mourning is beautiful but you do it.

  4. Beautiful. Yes, I'll cry with you. And laugh with you. I like the idea of all our rivers running together eventually, to a great blue sea.

    I hope you find exactly what you need at the half off Goodwill racks. Hugs.

  5. oh Mama Moon, SO sorry.
    This writing is beautiful.
    You are.
    I love the way you saw him and share him with us. The Levis!
    Dear man.
    Your river, I hope you know it helps me enter the river of my own life, more often than not.
    Hugs to you.

  6. your words took me into the
    heart of the heart,
    so perfectly blue,
    you have given


  7. I am finding myself wordless this morning. Could be the two nights of restless sleep. Inside my heart thinks of how you must feel at losing such a dear friend. Never feel you can't write about what needs to come from within you Mary. We will flow with you down the river if only to hold your hand or hold you close....

  8. You know that Byrds' song -- I think Gram Parsons wrote it: The river flows, it flows to the sea, where that river goes, I wanna be. Flow, river flow, let your waters wash down, Take me to this...Flow, river, flow.

    Love you.

  9. Yes, another day. So sad yet so honored to know him...what a tribute to him. Be kind to yourself today and let the tears flow as they must...when the heart breaks...the tears come. It just is. Death and life...difficult things to accomplish.
    Love you so,

  10. oh
    achingly beautiful.
    and strange that I wrote of water as well.


  11. I'm really sorry that he is gone. Cry it out. It helps to cleanse the mind and the heart.

  12. I had a picture in my mind's eye of all our rivers flowing side by side. While you're muddy, we're still there by your side. Dammit, I sound like a priest. And it's a crappy image because rivers don't flow side by side. They merge. But I hope you see what I mean.

  13. Such beauty in these words. And yes, it is okay to laugh, to cry, and to watch that river make its way to the boundless, beautiful ocean.


  14. Rebecca- Then you were very lucky.

    Jeannie- Beauty can be found in most things, I believe.

    Mel's Way- Thanks, sugar.

    Mel- Not so much with the Goodwill but the rivers are fine.

    Bethany- Thank you for calling me Mama Moon. Thank you for what you said.

    rebecca- I'm glad.

    Ellen- I feel so blessed. Thank-you.

    Leslie- He was a lovely man.

    Elizabeth- You ALWAYS have the right words. Thank-you.

    Terry Joy- Exactly, dear friend.

    deb- Water is so powerful, whether in reality or as metaphor.

    Syd- It does.

    Mwa- But rivers do split and then join together again in their flowing. They do.

    Nancy C- I know. It is.

    Ms. Bastard-Beloved- You are beautiful too.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.