A few days off (away from my desk) in the garden and hanging out with friends and family is just what I needed. I've been a little blue with the borough stuff and Song's death, and am relieved that his wife Amy didn't want to do the obituary this week. It's been a tough go for her and their three little ones, and the funeral is Monday at 3:00 at St. Luke church in Shoreline, near Seattle. If you do go, Amy says to wear "Easter best" whites and bright colors. There will be a memorial in Haines in about a month, she said, and she and the kids will be here.
Of course sunshine helps, as does the tourist season, and construction season (the lumberyard is busy again), and fishing season is right around the corner and the fishermen in our family are gearing up for another commercial salmon season. The singing birds, and the buzzing bees in the cherry blossoms are calling, 'the garden needs you!' and so the telephone will just have to ring away. (Leave a message.) The library dandelions can use some pulling before they flower so if you have a moment, tug away.
It's Mother's Day, the day my mother always dismissed as a scam by Hallmark in order to sell cards. She must be rolling her eyes at me for thinking of her today. Her grave is at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx, but my hunch, my faith, is that she's no more there than Duke Ellington is. He left music, she left me, and my sisters, and now my daughters and son and grand daughters and grandson, and if I may, I will include the dogs, since my mother always had a dog, or two. And books, and church, and a garden.
I know, I missed the health fair, and so have to hope that my daily tablespoon of cod liver oil is working, and the Hospice of Haines rummage sale did just fine without me too. ( 10,000! Wow! Thank you volunteers!) But I was able to babysit for James and Molly Friday, see JJ run her first marathon (and feel like a coach again, even though she needed none to finish in 3:14) and then spend a whole day with the little kiddos on the way home.
If this morning were any better I'd think I'd died and went to heaven-- the sun, the wind, the birds, thousands of gulls like noisy confetti on the flats at Lutak when we pedaled by before most humans were stirring-- and the eagles dozens of them -- one swooped so close to Chip's head I thought- well that's another good reason to wear a helmet.
Happy Tuesday is what Marnie used to say at the end of the every Morning Muscles Class (or Thursday, as that was the other early morning fitness session.) We don't meet for class anymore, for all kinds of good reasons it wasn't sustainable. I miss it, but have tried to adapt some, and I do include many of the lessons, both physical (planks) and emotional ( find your breath, clear your mind)-- I may have learned more about caring for my head and heart space in Morning Muscles than caring for my abs and quads. Plus, I liked that the group of women were a good mix from all over town.
Gratitude is the first verse of my hymn. I'm insisting on that, no matter what comes next.
The news of a young friend's death coincides with moving a forty year-old father of three into a hospice room.
His mother tells me she still believes in God, more than ever, but she and He will have a "good talk" when they meet face to face.
It is Spring again.
There’s a new baby.
Old friends celebrate big birthdays.
(Mercy, always Mercy is the refrain)
We have a lot of meetings this week, and they are crucial, as the result will be a new manager. Both Brad Ryan, the current facilities director and interim manager, and Debra Schnabel, a former assembly member and current Chamber of Commerce head are the finalists. The good news is either way, they are both local, and both very much care about our town. This morning from 9-12 at the library the staff will be asking the candidates questions, and this evening from 5:30-8:30 at the library as well, the community can hear what each have to say and ask questions.
“To be hopeful in bad times is not to be foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is not just a history of cruelty. It is also one of compassion, sacrifice, courage, and kindness. And if we do act, in whatever small way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. If we live now as we think humans should live, in defiance of what is around us, this in itself is a marvelous victory.”- Howard Zinn