Saturday Speaks: Summer Reading

from www.vgavic.org.au/

The best thing I heard this week came from the book I've started reading:

But solitude is only a human presumption. Every quiet step is thunder to beetle life underfoot; every choice is a world made new for the chosen. All secrets are witnessed.
- from Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer

I just appreciate the perspective.

Friday Sabbath: New Prana

After a truly lovely day spent with my precious pen pal, it became obvious that I wouldn't make it to my Friday night yoga class. One of my favorite instructors teaches a this wonderful hot yoga course... she's a balanced blend of anatomy, concise directions, and spirituality. She always reads from a book of devotionals and, somehow, I tend to feel like she's speaking to me directly. She opens the devotional to a random page and reads to us about taking care of ourselves, relinquishing our jealousies or bad behaviors, accepting others and exercising tolerance... generally very touching stuff.

I had really wanted to go this evening, but as I watched my friend walk away, I looked at my watch and knew I'd be unable to make it back to Williamsburg by 5:45PM. Still, we had spent the day in Carytown, so I was parked just in front of a yoga studio. It was 5:20PM and I figured it worth a try... my yoga gear was in the trunk after all.

I dashed up the stairs and discovered that there was a Hatha Flow class at 5:30. I scribbled on the New Student Pad, signed in, paid, dashed back down the three flights of stone steps to fetch my clothes, hauled into the Ladies Room to change, tossed my bags into the common holding area, and dropped onto my crooked mat. It took some Ujii breathing to slow down my heart rate and accept the fact that I was in a class that begins with inversion. The teacher had her students lined up on their backs with their legs up the wall.

This is not how I was trained.

The rest of the class followed in such a way that made me feel like an idiot and not a 200 RYT (Registered Yoga Teacher). I clearly have been gripping the ways of my own studio too tightly. We have a pretty regular routine where I teach... there's room for some variation, but largely people are working on a specific set of poses. The idea is to gradually work toward the "full expression" of the pose. Unless you're Tony Sanchez or Jimmy Barkan, chances are you're not able to move into the full expression of every pose in the series.

The yoga that was taught to today resembles the Iyengar method to me... one uses as many props as possible to actually move into the full expression of the poses. The instructor only taught the sun salutations without props. Her standing series and floor positions were all taught with the aid of props or partners.

There is rarely touching at my studio. Occasionally an instructor will assist individual students who seem comfortable with touch, but unless it's a workshop designed for partners, it doesn't really happen. Our teacher this evening had no qualms physically adjusting her students (particularly me) and she instructed us to work with one another in staff pose.

from www.yogaofthefuture.com

It's basically a seated position with one's legs stretched out ahead. What she had the assisting student do was to place his/her shin against the seated student's back to allow the student to relax the back muscles holding him/her up while keeping the spine straight. Then we were asked to take our hands to the upward reaching upper arms of the seated student. After turning the muscles gently inward, the assistant moves his/her hands up the stretched arms of the seated person "helping to move the prana up through the body."

The lady next to me didn't blink. She got up and walked to me volunteering to assist me first.

I have to admit... it was pretty incredible.

It's a very subtle movement, but it really makes a difference. I could quite literally feel something that probably could only be described as "energy" tingle up my arms and then rush down like pouring water through the rest of my body. It's sort of warm and electric all at once.

There's a magic in touch from which we shy away... I'm sure as a society, this is a trust issue. We've heard too many horror stories of how certain people take advantage of kindness and do terrible things to good people such as stealing or... well, much worse. Every one you know probably has heard at least one story that's frightening enough to make you never want to trust another human being again. I'm guilty of this fear for sure... even tonight when I walked into the studio and saw that the common holding area was a completely open room to people in the building, I asked the lady at the desk if I could leave my purse with her. I was surprised when she looked at me with moral disappointment... the sort of face my pastor makes at me when I tell him I don't really have faith in anything...

"Everyone just leaves their stuff in that room-"

"Oh, good. I see," I felt like such a jerk that I cut her off and ran into the room to hang up my purse. I'm happy to announce that her faith in the people around us was not unfounded...

Worse than that, I'm sure many people prefer not to be touched (within reason, of course) due to a lack of it at some point in their lives for many reasons... an un-affectionate parent, an abusive break-up, etc. It's preferable to deal with being left the hell alone than to risk the rejection or the remembrance of it.

In my case, I just don't trust people. Perhaps that's wise in the alley or in the mall, but maybe in places where people have a common interest in something "good" (yoga, churches, etc) I could stand to suspend my judgment. Obviously terrible things have happened in these places as well. There's a sixth sense we all have the power to discover and utilize to know when it's a moment for defense or openness.

I thanked the teacher for the class and told her in all sincerity I'd need to come back to study her technique and language. I don't think I'll convert my devout "Don't Touch Me's" to start working together to enhance one another's yoga experience, but I hope I can start turning their awareness of one another toward some form of comradery. From what I can tell, all my students are pretty decent people, but I think our studio could do with some care for one another. In the Carytown studio, I felt as though while these people weren't going to join my book club, they wanted me to succeed in class and further my yogic path. They have been taught gratitude for what they can do and how others can help them (and how they are likewise useful to others). It was one of the most frustrating and yet best supported classes I've ever taken.

Thursday Kitchen: When what I remember about the meal is You

I spent all of today pretty much completely outside of my home. I went to Anya's to work on some at-home pre-natal yoga moves and then saddle up her 1.5 year old child plus a friend from Louisiana and her 5 year old into the Volvo for a MacArthur Mall trip. Afterward I had my weekly dinner date minus one regular guest.

Sounds so simple written out like that... almost unfathomable now to think that it took all day to do these things.

My meals today were prepared by others. Anya made wheat pasta and added yellow squash, green pepper, and onion to her pre-made spaghetti sauce. After an appetizer of homemade bread (Anya and I both swear by our bread makers and bake our own bread every week) with Nutella, three women and a curly-haired child talked and chewed. Caro prepared a side of almond green beans and a summer soup made of tomatoes, onion, chickpeas, and spinach.

That also sounds simple... like the question, "What makes this noteworthy?" could more than likely come to mind.

I'm thinking tonight of what it's like at home. It doesn't matter who you are or how old you happen to be, you live somewhere that food is often prepared. In whatever form that is, occasionally you have to look at what you have in the fridge, in the pantry, in your cabinets, and just make food. I'll never forget the lecture my "Russian father" (this story is complicated... a different entry for a different day) gave to me about how one must know how to sustain one's self no matter what and that includes opening the cabinets and throwing stuff in a pan. While delivering said lecture, he threw together something that I'll never remember entirely... only that it had canned peas, corn, and something else and was pretty gross.

Either way, at home, this must be done by you, yourself, or whatever other brave soul decides to belly up to the stove and do a little better than throwing a freezer dinner in the microwave.

Both of the meals I had today remind me of this idea... of just needing to feed the people around you... which implies a certain warmth of comfort and family... Your family anticipates that these evenings will come up now and again. They don't expect you to be Jean-Pierre Poohbah and create something brilliant. This isn't a dinner party you've planned for a week and hoped that you would wow your boss, new friends, in-laws, etc. Instead, this is survival, sustenance, generosity...

While I recall the meals I had and could tell quite clearly what ingredients were involved (both were a VAST improvement, by the by, to the Russian canned goods casserole), what makes these among the best meals I've had all week is that family comfort quality. I was a part of a normal days in which people simply should be fed. At Anya's three gals gabbed about life, the boys we knew, the boys we wish we never knew, the ways life has changed, the life we hope to pass on to the next generation, etc. We generated a spontaneous talk about ourselves the way I might have back home after a week away at school or a summer abroad. With Caro, we discussed our families, our friends, our hopes, our favorite movies, some books, and the freaky things we liked as kids... specifically, Return to Oz starring Fairuza Balk.

from www.midnitesformaniacs.com

Both of these mealtimes generate familiar feelings of sitting at home with Mom, Daddy, and my brothers... spontaneous talks about goofy movies, bad music, memories of dumb things past, and the ability to share my Mom's efforts in feeding us...

Though I'll spend time on Thursday discussing preparing things correctly, properly, with style, and with tasty improvisations or improvements, there's nothing like a thrown-together homemade meal made by someone else to inspire closeness and conversation with you.

I thank you, my friends, for making me feel at home.

And to update, Daddy seemd to like his stew... though the oohing and aahing was over my homemade ice cream...

Wednesday Valuables: Know your "true" true friends

After a conversation I had during lunch today, I'm thinking about my first love... that is, the first person outside of my family that I truly loved. For the purposes of this story, I'll just call her Daphne.

I met her in my acting troupe during... I guess it was fifth or sixth grade. She was the most unlikely Cancer determined to toss off my Libran balance. She was creative, eccentric, multi-talented, and loud. She was the very first person to whom I told all my secrets, all my grown-up fantasies, all my hopes and dreams. She probably listened, but when she had nothing to say she'd just keep talking. That worked out fine for me. Best of all, there were no off-limit topics.

I did really dumb things with her. Once, we agreed to try to walk to each other from our homes and meet halfway. In an age without internet mapping or a GPS, our pre-teen pea-brains couldn't have known that there was a distance of about 7 miles down J. Clyde Morris to reach one another. We didn't even use a paper map to figure out how to get there or where to meet. I made it down Harpersville, reached the sign on Route 17 that says, "Welcome to York County," and then I realized that I had been walking for one hour. I chickened out and turned back. As soon I arrived home, I called Daphne's house to see if she was there. Daphne picked up the phone.

"Yeah, I had to turn back, too," she cackled.

She came to my mind because I was thinking about what our "true" true friends can handle. There's probably a period of time for most of us during which we become whoever it is we feel we need to be to make friends with certain people. Sure, some likenesses probably help with initially striking up the friendship, but we spare those pals our darkness. We protect them from our ugliness or the things about which we are particularly ashamed.

Not me and Daphne.

Here's a brief portrait of a "true" true friend:

I was in my orange-colored room listening to some Broadway soundtrack and rocking in my water bed when my phone rang. I had one of those goofy, 80s-looking "see-through" phones displaying all the wires and gadgets inside.

from www.onlineauction.com

I picked up the phone (Imagine! This is before Caller ID), "Hello?"

"F*%#! YOU F*%#ing B&^$*@~!! WHAT THE F*%# IS YOUR F*%#ING PROBLEM?! WHAT IS THE G*&D^%$ DEAL?! YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS YOU PIECE OF S^&$! GO TO HELL YOU F*%#ING B&^$*@~! I F*%#ING HATE YOU! G*&D^%$ITALL!"

I heard gasping on the line. Then a long deep sigh.

"All better?" I asked calmly.

"OH yeah, " Daphne said cheerfully. "Thanks a lot."

"Sure. Now what happened?"

I can't remember anymore what she told me... I'm sure it was about her parents or a boy. My point is merely that we were safe to be everything we actually were with one another. We both occasionally called each other and cussed each other out since we would never feel right being so hysterical with the person who had the audacity to upset us. There were no colors to our personality that we could not express with one another. No moods or pains were concealed.

Since I've been thinking of her, I hope my friends know that they are all safe to break down, cry, scream, and go through their phases... I've been there and fortunate to know people who let me be myself.

Be yourselves, my friends, with those you love. Your real friends can take it.

Tuesday Hobbies: Special Stars

Astronomy.com has this fun feature where you can see what's hanging above you on our globe. You can find the constellations, galaxy groups, asteroids, etc... You can learn that Venus is particularly bright this month and visible even during lit hours. Saturn and Pluto are also prominently above us at the moment. But you can also find something that I couldn't recall from my college Introduction to Astronomy course (which does not mean my professor didn't discuss it).

The website refers to them as "special stars." From what I'm reading, these stars are similar to our sun in type (these are mostly red dwarfs, sort of mediocre stars). There are three such "special" stars dangling above us on the East Coast of North America today. These stars are probably special because they have potential planet systems like our own star which has inspired life in its case or because they have been of significant note to scientists for one reason or another.

The one star currently in our sky about which I can find the least information is labeled UU Aurigae. I suppose that's reasonable since it's 1810 light-years away. This star is a C-type giant, rich in carbon, which, as most of us know, is a major element in lifeforms here on Earth. However, our Sun is richer in oxygen than carbon. UU Aurigae has most likely been considered "special" because it is a binary star (a star system of two stars which orbit around a common center of mass), a phenomenon still worthy of further research. They are truly fascinating, almost graceful machines...

from www.nckas.org

The scond star hanging over our heads now is known as Lalande 21185. This star is named after Jérôme Lalande who logged its existence sometime before 1801. The star is a red dwarf about 8 light-years away from us (significantly closer that UU Aurigae) located in the Ursa Major constellation. It has featured in science fiction novels (such as Marooned in Realtime by Vernor Vinge), probably due to its accessibility for amateur astronomists. From what I'm reading, it seems that any time there's a claim that planets orbit a star, this Peter van de Kamp person comes up with his "astrometry." Apparently, he has made some mistakes and his measurements are now held in serious doubt... including the existence of planets around Lalande (though George Gatewood re-opened the possibility in 1996) and Barnard's star.

from www.exoplaneten.de

Barnard's star is a low-mass red dwarf only 6 light-years away. It is also named after its discoverer, American astronomer E.E. Barnard. This star is "ancient" as far as star ages go (nearly one trillion years old... according to my personal calulator) but still exhibits active behavior. A stellar flare burst out on July 17, 1998. Little is known about the nature of stellar flares and the event was unexpected for scientists due to the star's age. Peter van de Kamp made claims for planets around this star, too, which have since been highly questioned. However, Barnard's star gained scientific popularity when chosen as the target of the Daedelus Project. In the 1970s, talk began concerning an unmanned mission to find the planets that may orbit Barnard. This would take half a human lifetime to unleash a house of probes on the star itself. The subjet was re-openned in the 80s to find what was then still believed Barnard's potential giant planetary companion. Still no news, from what I can find, on any other plans or observations. Barnard has been the subject of several novels including works by authors Arthur C. Clarke. Will Eisner, Dan Simmons, and even Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy features Barnard as a way station for interstellar tourists.

from www.daviddarling.info

It's just fun to imagine these potential otherworlds hovering above us... other histories that have been had and loved or could be in the distant future. Over the span of millions or billions of years, life has conceiveably either sprung up before or will in the distant future in various parts of the universe... long before and long after us.

Sure... other displays shine overhead today... Orion and the dippers are there and even another star in Lyra that became a popular subject for science fiction... I think I'll watch my favorite movie sometime soon...

Monday Review: Don't tell Alice, Mr. Martin...

I sat down tonight thinking I'd be writing about something else... then I received an email from a dear friend who keeps up with the times better than I...

This friend, like many of my dear friends, knows about my obsession with Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I can't explain it entirely, but this story, once introduced to me by someone dear to my heart, stuck inside of me as being so very... me. The escape into the dreamworld that never provides an effective escape from real world trouble runs rampant in medieval verse. Carroll (or Professor Dodgson) seemed to create an effective dreamworld experience that taught you something while still remaining mystifying and unobtrusive. Humpty Dumpty discusses a philosophy on the names and natures of things, the Caterpillar asks us the question we need to ask every few years or so to remind us of where we've been and where we're going, the Chesire Cat demonstrates the futility of thinking you have control over your circumstances (as well as the joy of both a lack of control and our collective "madness"), and so on. All these very Sophie's World lessons without the Wizard of Oz terror of facing specific demons in our natural world speak to me. The lessons in Alice are applicable to the specific demons wrapped in riotously nonesensical situations without bombarding you with the face of the scary bike lady come to fricasee your dog or your uncles and brothers as your brainless, heartless, and spineless companions.

So, being the Alice freak that I am, I've seen almost all the known movie versions (save this very creepy-looking Czech version I found on Netflix Instant Viewing). My favorite still is the one that came out on TV in 1999 created by the makers of Merlin. This version remains very true to both Carroll's books about Alice (most adaptations combine what characters and episodes they like from both books). Tina Majorino plays the part of Alice... and she's one of the best, really. She was close to the right age (might have been 12 or 13, unlike the 8 or 9 year old of Carroll's tale) and her portrayal proves less ignorant than most. I worry that some screenwriters perhaps mistook her curiosity as idiocy (When Carroll writes, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid, he means groggy and listless or bored). Among her co-stars, Ben Kingsley makes me cry everytime when he relays a ray of hope for Alice in this twisted world in his role of The Caterpillar. A frequently overlooked character, The White Knight from Through the Looking Glass, also appears in this version played by the warm and playful Christopher Lloyd (a special part as I believe that this character is Dodgson himself coming into the world to assure Alice that she'll make her way home... he is the only one to show her any affection or kindness). Miranda Richardson plays The Queen of Hearts to absolute perfection... most women portraying this character play her very gruff, mean, and almost manly. In the book, this character specifically shouts in a "shrill, loud voice" and while she is "severe" she is a characature and is not taken seriously. Richardson is the only Queen I've seen who follows this detail from the original story.

Now, another one of my favorite things is Tim Burton... I love the "dark and twisty" creatures of his world and have been a fan of his work since I was a little girl (it all started with Beetlejuice). When I heard that he would be making a new version of Alice to premiere in 2010, I wanted to be excited...

...that's what I wanted...

...but now my loyalties are being tested.

I'm pretty critical of adaptations. I appreciate them and what color they can bring to a story when approached with respect and creativity (sometime I'll write about how much I adore Coraline). I want to believe that Burton will be the perfect person to adapt this story... after all, his version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is actually much closer to the book (not that I like the dentist detail very much...) with the Oompa Loompas singing the lyrics Roald Dahl wrote for them and the children meeting the same doomed endings as those of their literary predecessors. However, maybe some of you agree, it still lacked the charm that Gene Wilder brought to it (not that I don't appreciate the zaniness of Johnny Depp... it's not like he wrote that script... sigh...) and perhaps a touch of the spirit of the book. Maybe. I don't know. Something was off. Too much style and less childish, imaginative fun...

And now two of my favorite things collide.

So far, all we know are a handful of characters. Johnny Depp, of course, will be playing The Mad Hatter... I'm mostly okay with this. Hatter is crazy and rude... Depp can handle that.

from The Huffington Post

Then I see that Helena Bonham Carter is playing the part of The Red Queen (she's dressed as The Queen of Hearts and the two are not the same... I fear that the screenwriter has chosen to combine the two into one character... The Red Queen teaches Alice the ways of Looking Glass Land while The Queen of Hearts bosses everyone around). I'm comfortable with Carter in this role, too. She can handle the wacky characature bit while making you believe that The Queen believes herself to be threatening. I have faith in her.

from Huffington Post

I've also heard that Alan Rickman landed the part of The Caterpillar. I don't find this problematic since Caterpillar is largely uninterested in Alice. He sees the opportunity for conversation, but her situation does not bother him in particular. As long as Rickman doesn't read it like Snape in Harry Potter, his even, disenchanted tone should work out well enough. Crispin Glover accepted the part of The Knave of Hearts... looks kind of creepy, and The Knave is pretty minor, so, no hard feelings there either.

19 year old Mia Wasikowska shall be playing Alice...

... she's a little new for me. Apparently she's coming out this year in a film about Amelia Earhart co-starring with Hilary Swank, Ewan McGregor, and Richard Gere. I'll be certain to screen this one to see what she can do...
...because I get a little annoyed with an Alice that's so much older than Carroll's Alice. There was another actress about her age that played the part in a musical version (1972) who happens to be my least favorite Alice (very haughty and too bright to be the curious little heroine). Even Meryl Streep made a better Alice (she was in her 30s but resembled the Tenniel drawing of Queen Alice perfectly) in an experimental theater production in 1981 (very strange...).

Alice shouldn't always be 8 years old... it's complicated to get an actress that age that can actually perform the role (while she did a decent job, Natalie Gregory was a shaky 10 year old). Between 12 and 14 seems to work pretty well in bridging the gap of child and convincing acting. But, as I said, I get cranky about the performer being considerably older. Wasikowska has ten years on the literary child. Tim Burton said in an interview that Wasikowska has, "a certain kind of emotional toughness, standing her ground in a way that makes her kind of an older person but with a younger person’s mentality."

I hope that works out for her.

I'll see her film this October and re-evaluate my issues with her.

Apparently the screenwriter, Linda Woolverton, has taken some liberties with the essence of the story. Alice is still stuck in Victorian England, but she is 17 and learns a gentleman will shortly be proposing to her in public. This jolt is what inspires her down the rabbit hole... oh brother... Woolverton is responsible for some of my favorite old Disney films such as the screenplays for both Lion King and Beauty and the Beast... which were both cute and very 90s-kind-of-poignant. I'm just having trouble imagining a script for Alice coming out of that sort of writing. Some elaboration is usually required in adapting children's stories to film. There is typically not enough information to satisfy a full-length movie feature (Like Dahl's Chocolate Factory which is just barely 100 pages in length including pictures). Even my favorite version of Alice includes a little girl with stage fright when asked to sing at her parents' high society tea party. I just prefer the idea of a normal little girl having an extraordinary adventure. But, who knows? It could work.

But neither Woolverton nor Wasikowska is the element worrying me about my loyalties.

It's Anne Hathaway as The White Queen.

from Huffington Post

Look, I admire her for stepping out of her Princess Diaries sort of clumsy nerd roles. Really. In fact, I didn't mind her in Rachel Getting Married. She's making an effort. That's great.

But Carroll's White Queen is a frail, old bat.

In Burton's version, The White Queen has a sibling rivalry issue with her sister, The Red Queen, who banishes her. The exiled sister asks Alice to defeat a creature called "the bandersnatch" which comes from the famous poem The Jabberwocky. (The Jabberwocky creature, incidentally, will be played by Christopher Lee...)

This is starting to sound more like Through the Looking Glass meets American McGee's creepy video game for PC simply called Alice (it takes place after her parents are killed in a fire causing Alice to lose her mind and the men in white coats take her away which turns Wonderland inside-out). I guess I just don't know if I feel like she should be involved in this project... she looks like someone blew glitter on a white-robed Princess Arwyn which is such a departure from the old lady queen who asks Alice's help with her pin instead of fighting some wild creature. From what I've seen, even her serious roles, I don't see her convincingly playing the part of a child's storybook character.

I hope I eat these words when the film comes out in March 2010. Sincerely, this I hope.

I want to be excited.
I want to be.
I love Alice.
I love Burton films.
But I hope it's not like my love for yoga and Coke floats... I love them both, but they don't belong together.

What might really make this film special is the way Burton has chosen to express his vision... animation, cgi, live action... he's combining a lot of visual candy to make the wonderworld come alive. This is also a Disney movie, so, maybe it will be more Looking Glass (which is pretty creepy all by itself) and less American McGee...

Here's a link to the text of Carroll's Alice if anyone is interested before the movie comes out:
http://www.the-office.com/bedtime-story/classics-alice-1.htm
It looks pretty complete on first glance.

Sunday Reflections: Happy Fathers' Day

Fathers' Day only really became positive for me about five years ago. Without getting into it, because, really... we're all tired of this story... my biological father is not a part of my life. This is truly for the best and I have no complaints worth relaying at this point in time. I wish him well and I hope he learns to live. May the children he chose to raise celebrate and love him today.

As for my father figures, there have been a few... a teacher here and there more than anything. Most people who know me know the teacher to whom I refer as "Papa"... who eventually had another little girl of his own to raise. There's also my uncles, one on each side of my biological family, who had their moments of stepping in as counselor, adviser, friend, and advocate.

But there's no one like Daddy...

He had the real kind of of fathering power that quietly monitors your well-being and doesn't make itself very noticeable until you're out on your own. Provider, of course, was a primary role I understood he played, but the other gifts he gave me were unclear until adulthood... like the love a man must have for a woman to take her and her two year old (I've seen the videos... I was not the easiest kid to tolerate without getting a headache from her theatricals). There are loads of pictures of us between the my ages 2 and 5... so, mostly things I can't remember. There are a few more as I approach nine... and then they drop off until I turn about 23.

He was a pretty good sport during instances about which I no longer have clear memories... Here I'm about three and helping with a repair in the corridor:

He also helped out significantly with plays I wanted to put on at family reunions or holiday dinners... from recording my music to play during my performance or, once in a while, working as my co-star:

I wish I could remember this stuff.

Once my brothers were born, I saw an opportunity to be on my own. I turned inward and deepened my friendships, worked on my plays and poetry, and dealt extensively with my problems with my biological father. Daddy gave me plenty of space to figure out where I stood with my parents. I used to think he was blatantly ignoring me just as my father had all my life, but I later learned that he knew he had no place to really help me... I had to sort out those emotions and anger on my own.

Daddy has a "sixth sense" about people (so he tells us). He pretty much knew which friends would stick around for me before I did (he witnessed many tense moments and always had a brief pearl of wisdom to string around my neck that comforted me when the lesson was unpleasant)... he could tell when he walked into a room if "something funny was going on" (meaning he picked me up from outings, dates, school, etc)... he was the calm one in a crisis who probably saved your life (like the time he pulled me out of the water at the beach under the rouse that we would be joining Mom for ice cream when really he had seen a shark fin in the water and wanted to get me out and tell the life guard)... and so on.

This gift is the only explanation for the change in our relationship. He went from giving me space to opening up and becoming my friend around the same time I let go of my issues with my father or lack thereof. We didn't have a discussion or an agreement... it just happened.

It's one of the most magical relationships in my life.

I love you, Daddy.