This is a brain dump. Surely there is some kind of theme running through it.
***
Tomorrow we will go to the funeral of our across-the-street neighbor. It will be at the same church where I went to her husband's funeral about four years ago.
We have lived here 13 years and in that time, five of our nearest neighbors have died. Their ages have ranged from 20-something to 80. I know that life is like that - AND it seems like a lot. Maybe that is because it hasn't been a year yet since the traumatic death of our next-door-neighbor Jonathan. I still can't believe it. I still miss him.
I'll miss Phyllis, too. I was her Mrs. Kravitz. Because I could see her house as I stood at my kitchen window, I would notice when her garage door was open for too long, which would lead me to call her to ask if she really meant to leave it open (the answer was always "No, I forgot about it."), or I'd go pick up her trash can lid when the wind blew it off the container. I was the nosy neighbor who kept track of her and sometimes shared neighborhood gossip with her. Well, SHE gossiped. I just. Listened. :-)
And now she's gone.
I should be sure that when Phyllis' daughter puts the house on the market, she remembers to list "Your Own Personal Mrs. Kravitz" on the features list for the house.
***
In a couple of days, we're going to go to the BODY WORLDS & The Story of the Heart exhibit at the Museum of Nature and Science. I saw Von Hagens' Body Worlds exhibit a few year ago, and if it hadn't been so popular as to pack the place full of people, I could have stayed and oooohed and ahhhed for hours and hours.
Hmmmm... first I write about dead people that I've known and will never see again. Then I write about dead people I've never met, but who have donated their bodies and allowed them to be preserved in ways that will allow me and others to see them so that we can understand more about the fascinating miracle of the body.
***
I have to admit that sometimes I don't find the humor in this existence, but mostly, I find the whole thing pretty darn amazing. Sometimes, like this morning, I can just be standing at the bathroom sink when a wave of joy - for no apparent reason - floods through my body.
Sure, I'd like to move to the little desert hermitage where I recently spent a week. Suburbia is definitely more of a challenge for me. But when I slow down and notice, I find that this is as miraculously beautiful as the desert. In it's own way.
Sure, I'd like to move to the little desert hermitage where I recently spent a week. Suburbia is definitely more of a challenge for me. But when I slow down and notice, I find that this is as miraculously beautiful as the desert. In it's own way.
***
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow. I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment. - Rabindranath Tagore
I remember learning about Johnathan. That is a lot of neighbors to lose. Usually it is a little less dramatic, they just move away. But they are still gone forever from one's life and yet always there, too.
ReplyDeleteI can remember seeing a painting by Van Gogh, a landscape where he had drawn the ground purple. I thought that was really weird, and I didn't quite understand it, but for some reason it stuck with me.
ReplyDeleteYears later I was driving to Dallas at night, and the sun was setting over the black volcanic soil- and the ground reflected purple light.
So sometimes it's best just to notice things and remember things. You might have an experience later that ties it all together and makes sense of it.
Yeah, Otowi. I guess what happens most is that neighbors either move away while young and healthy or they grow old, move into a nursing home or a retirement community, and then die there. The last option allows us to be immune from having them die while they are our neighbors.
ReplyDeleteAnd you are right. They are gone forever, but truly, they live one in our connection to them.
Thomas,
ReplyDeleteI like your purple ground story.
I wonder if, ultimately, it all ties together in the end.
Carol, I'm sorry to hear about your across-the-street neighbor. Thank goodness for the Kravitz's, though. I leave my garage door open when I don't want to. (But what were you doing at the sink when the wave came over you, and can I have some?) ;-)
ReplyDeletewhat i notice that is real positive is that you actually know your neighbors. even in suburbs nowadays, people do not always know each other. i'm sorry for you losses though. it's hard to give up the physical reality of the people we have gotten used to.
ReplyDeletei reckon that is why some people allow themselves to be preserved like this? i'm sure most people do donate their body for educational and science purposes.
I'm sorry about your loss of Mrs. Kravitz, Carol. And I thank you for reminding me of the TV persona. I hadn't thought about her for years.
ReplyDeleteThe wave of joy phenomenon--it happens to me too. Such waves needed by the body and soul.
G.G.,
ReplyDeleteI don't know! It just came over me. Happens every now and then. I will try to bottle it up so I can sell it and make a fortune. (But you get a great deal, since you inspired the bottling of this great product!)
Foam,
ReplyDeleteYeah, I guess we are lucky. We are not close friends in this neighborhood, but we do know each other and we're there for each other. Thanks for helping me to recognize and appreciate what I have!
Thanks San.
ReplyDeleteNice to know of others out there who catch the wave! I'm feeling it now as I look outside the window and see the gnarly, leafless trees moving ever so slightly in the breeze.