Saturday Speaks: Sympathy, Tenderness...

While most of my dear friends have made attempts at cheering me up, lifting my spirits this week, this is definitely among the best things I've heard this week:

The memorial you've created to Mister John in your blog entries is a legacy anyone would be proud of. And I don't think he would feel like the only one in the friendship who was lucky.
Thanks for giving him an other life to those of us who now aspire to live up to his stellar example of humanity...

Thank you all for your comforting words and warmth. I appreciate it.

Friday Sabbath: Reverence of the Ancestors

With Mister John still on my mind, I'm thinking of every little thing he said... all the ways in which he lived his life... certain faces that ought to be immortalized in marble so I never forget. I think I did something similar when my grandmother died.

This mourning process brings to my mind societies that worship their dead ancestors. Seems like the most natural step to me for some of these groups... China, Polynesia, Malaysia, tropical Africa, and certain tribes even of North America possessed elements of ancestor reverence. I find myself traveling back in time when we had no cameras, no videos, none of our currently sophisticated ways to record a person just as he or she was in life. Perhaps this method of ancestral worship helped to keep those people "alive" in a spiritual sense... belief in an immortal part of humans surely helps, but I can see why these souls are so elevated though mere mortals...

...they know something we don't.

In most of these societies involved with ancestral reverence, two basic topics inform their rituals and beliefs: 1) Those that "have gone before us" into that realm we can never truly know until we get there, they perpetuate a beneficent interest in the events of our lives. 2)Also, an uneasiness and fear of the dead informs practices to placate the dead or dispense of the emotions of the living.

I've heard of some practices in which the dead ancestors essentially enhance the power of the living tribesmen. These tribes invoke the power of their ancestors to enforce their status among their group. There are other traditions in which it is believed that the dearly departed join a higher society of Fate that intervene on your behalf if you perform the correct ritual (the Pueblo native's rain dances, for example, are an appeal to the gds/ancestors to water their crops). One can also reach back to the highly observant Egyptians who meticulously wrap their dead and preserve their earthly possessions so that the dead can take those treasures with them into the afterlife. They also believed that the soul of the dead person could continue to "live" in the body if it is well preserved.

One most intriguing fictional society, that sticks out in my brain anyway, is the Fremen of Frank Herbert's DUNE. After the protagonist, Paul, settles a tribal dispute by killing a member of the group, he sheds a tear. The Fremen gawk and whisper to one another, "Look! He gives water to the dead!" Here is a group of people who observe their grief for the departed within the constraints of survival. The Fremen live on a desert planet where even the water the human body perspires is collected into a "stillsuit" so that it can be consumed later. How we all live most likely informs our opinions of viewing the dead... looking at other "real" desert societies, the dead is cast aside or made of use to sustain the living. Survival is key, so belief backs up ideas such as their souls being rewarded for how they died in Paradise or distinctly believing the soul, and all characteristics therein, instantly retreat the body upon death making the physical remains irrelevant to the passing spirit.

This is not a sophisticated study but my humble gatherings based on what I've read...

In my case, I wear the necklace he gave me for a birthday present like rosary beads. I can't get out of my head the words he said or the faces he made. I sound like the Psalms in my brain... humming and repeating the phrases and tones Mister John used most frequently. I elevate the way that he tried so hard not to "hate" anything or anyone (as though it were a law of Moses)... that if there wasn't something good to be found it was none of his business anyway. I admire the way he wouldn't wait to live-- whether someone was willing to go with him or not, he took his trips, saw the sights, ate in the places that prepared food he most enjoyed... he knew how to live in spite of his disappointments.

This some "religious" reaction in me forces me to wonder if this is how the Bible was written. The Hebrews are known for the honoring of their ancestors (Abraham this, Abraham that), so, I have to wonder if, as enough great people passed on, the living were hoping to preserve their wisdom in the written word.

Mister John believed in me, and his words from a card I found recently (after I was accepted to W&M) have become my mantra:

Congratulations! You sounded so surprised when you left the message. I WASN'T. I knew you would get in. Well done. John X

As I embark on challenges, such as my new job at another yoga studio in Newport News, I think of his words, and it keeps me on target. The power, I understand, comes from my belief in the words and my trust in the man who said them. I don't actually believe that I invoke the power of Mister John to help me get through class...

...though I certainly hope that, if his soul is wondering around somehow and has interests in the affairs of the living, I hope he knows he is loved and appreciated still.

I preserve him the only way I know how. He is to be buried shortly, from what I've been told. I believe that what made him him is no longer in that container, but I'd still feel a little better knowing that the container of John Geoffrey Marshall was honorably laid to rest.

My friend was kind enough to send me her only picture of him... a healthier Mister John freshly delivered to America to grace our lives...

Nice to see the memory of him in a home in which we spent many holidays, birthdays, and days of no consequence whatsoever.

Thursday Kitchen: The Yoga Diet

(from www.ayushveda.com)

I have heard pretty often that yoga changes the way you live... the obvious fitness that arrives in the body, the calm that you can take out of the class with you and then into the world... but what I've heard most recently refers to how we eat.

During my teacher training, there was an amusing day in our yogic philosophy class in which a debate broke out between the professor and the student. Our teacher had just relayed his story about why he's a vegetarian (no eggs, fish, or meat). He had a traumatic experience in school during a biology lab... the class dissected frogs. At the time, frogs were brought in alive, and the teacher demonstrated how to kill it (picking it up by the legs and whacking it in the head against the desk) and open it carefully and quickly so one can see the heart beating. Our professor got up, walked to the door, opened it, left the room, and took a walk around the grounds.

"That was the day I decided that I would never eat anything that had a mother or a face," the good doctor said.

That's what started it. One of our trainees had worked for a gourmet restaurant in New York and learned all the things you would expect from a Cordon Bleu sort of education. She argued about how amazing properly prepared meat tasted.

"It just makes me feel sorry for you that you'll never know what really great filet mignon should taste like or how beef carpaccio just melts in your mouth," she protested.

Our professor, ever so politely, returned his sentiments.

The conversation turned to the inevitability that one goes vegetarian as his or her yogic practice advances (though my trainee peer does not seem convinced). According to the official "yoga diet," there are three different kinds of food (all together, these types make up what is referred to as "the gunas"). Sattvic food consists of "pure food" which calm the mind and heal the body. These Sattvic foods include cereal, wholemeal breads, milk and cheese (must come from animals that are treated well... there is a difference in the quality of the food if the animals are mistreated), fresh fruit and vegetables, nuts and seeds, herbal teas and honey, and pure fruit juices. Secondly, there are Rajastic foods which are hot, bitter, sour, dry or salty food and believed to destroy the equilibrium between the mind and the body. It is also considered to be eating Rajastic food if one is shoveling it down too quickly. The Rajastic foods include sharp spices, stimulants such as coffee and tea, fish, eggs, salt, and chocolate. Lastly, there are the Tamastic foods which are connected to foods that neither benefit the mind nor the body. One eats in a Tamastic way when he or she overeats. Examples of Tamastic foods include meat, alcohol, oinons, garlic, stale foods, and fermented foods such as vinegar.

Now, the goal to the Yogic diet is to eat more pure foods (Sattvic) and fewer impure foods (Rajastic or Tamastic). One can aim for the balance of these three branches or learn to focus on the Sattvic branch. One does ocassionally hear about some amazing yogi up in a mountain village in Tibet who only eats a bowl of rice once per day... but, aside from him, most of us are deriving our diet from all the branches. The recommendation is to abstain from most of the foods in the second and third category while trying to live the Sattvic way.

The Yoga Diet might sound extreme and maybe some of you are wiping your brows grateful that you don't take yoga at all... but even non-yoga promoting thinkers promote this way of eating. Micheal Pollan's book IN DEFENSE OF FOOD has one basic moto: Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly Plants. I have not completed the book yet, but Pollan advocates a fresh food diet in his extensive explanation of why it's better for you and how we came to this processed freezer food age in which we currently live. He advocates an idea that one comes across in THE OKINAWA PROGRAM (Wilcox, Wilcox, and Suzuki) to try to eat only until you are 80% full... a concept that most Americans probably have some trouble conjuring in this, our land of plenty. The Okinawan diet also prescribes fresh foods and "the right kind of carbs."

While I've always striven to eat healthy (you can ask my mother if you don't believe me), I haven't eliminated meat entirely from my own diet. I try to eat my meat consciously, in terms of getting free range chicken or grass fed beef... I tend to buy my meat from the Farmers' Market during summer and talk to the farmers themselves about the treatment of their animals. Even with that consideration, meat is treated more like a side dish at home with the vegetables featuring as the main attraction.

I'm not sure how much of my eating habits are "the yoga talking" or how much of it is my getting older and changing my tastes. Admittedly, in summer, I tend to back off of meat anyway. It just sits so much heavier on the body when it's hot outside. However, I will admit that since I've been a more adamant student of yoga that I naturally lean towards wanting vegetables. I did have a craving for a cheeseburger the other day... and promptly upon satisfying that craving, I was sorry that I did. Meat "feels" different. Tastes different. It's just not appealing. I'm still good with sausage, fish (I doubt I'll ever give up on sushi), and some poultry, but red meat is more than likely on its way out.

I flipped through the pages of SKINNY BITCH (by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin) once to see what the secret must be... and the secret is basically veganism. They paint a pretty grim picture of what it means to eat a dead carcass (not delicate writers... not particularly good writers either). Still, if one reads ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE by Barbara Kingsolver, one learns that, even if we all, all over the globe, ceased to consume meat, the species would actually suffer. We've spent more years than I can count basically conditioning these animals to be dependent upon us for survival. If we set the cows and the chickens loose, we might eliminate them altogether or they could become a pestulence to the planet. Obviously we should still be advocates for the ethical treatment of livestock... both the bitches and Barbara would agree that what you injest changes depending on the happiness of the animal.

I think the yogis have a good basic formula though... living on the Sattvic branch... but I think there's room for picking from the other branches once in a while... To borrow from the Greeks, All things in moderation...

More information: http://www.yogadiet.com.au/
http://www.abc-of-yoga.com/diet/
http://www.lifepositive.com/Body/Yoga/yoga-techniques.asp

Wednesday Valuables: Don't Walk Alone

Mister John is still heavy on my mind, and heart... I'm actually amazed at how hard this is hitting me. I've always loved him, but I wasn't expecting this much heartbreak...

On that, I think for today, I'll just thank my other friends, people around here, who have given me my space while honoring Mister John with my by filling out his "Getting to know you" questionnaire. Others who have not had the time to fill it out have called or written me... I thank you all.

Here are my favorite questions and answers submitted first by Mister John and then my other pals:

1. What time did you get up this morning?

6:00am
This afternoon... been sick lately
8:11am
6:05am
6:45am
9:35am
10:00am, Mike let me sleep in. It was heaven!!
2:30pm (but I went to bed at 9am)
9am, thanks to the tea
9:00
12:30 pm (While I still can, might as well...)

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema?

James Bond: From Russian with Love
I can't say...
The Proposal- very cute. A nice escape.
Public Enemies
Can't tell you
UP
The new Transformers movie, and I LIKED IT!
Summer Hours
Pixar's UP
My Life in Ruins

Public Enemines, unfortunately

4. What is your favorite TV show?

Holmes on Homes
Frasier and The Dean Martin Show
Currently, The Office
NCIS
The Simpsons
30 Rock
Grey's Anatomy. Don't judge me.
Arrested Development
A Haunting at the moment
Grey's Anatomy, Desparate Housewives, Private Practice, Ugly Betty

Don't watch TV. (on DVD: I Love Lucy)

5. What do you usually have for breakfast?

Cornflakes and OJ
Tea and toast
Toast w/ Nutella and Coffee
Sausage-egg-cheese biscuit and cinnamon muffin/cinnamon toast
a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice
Coffee, bran cereal, some protein
Half-caf and cereal
I don't usually eat breakfast
tea and the leftovers from the night before if I even have breakfast
Oatmeal

water

7. What food do you dislike?

Humus
Okra
Mushrooms and seafood
Chocolate
sushi
None really
I'm a food lover, not hater.
Guacamole, coconut, and spinach
Blackcurrant
Liver
ketchup and brussel sprouts

8. What is your favorite CD at the moment?

O Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack
Yael Naim, self-titled
Viva la Vida - Coldplay
Harmony
Pavement's Wowee Zowee
Oscar Peterson Trio-Night Train
iTunes girl, not a CD buyer
Cake, Prolonging the Magic
Led Zepplin IV
The Best of Leonard Cohen (Dance me till the end of Love)

_Only By the Night_ by Kings of Leon

10.Favorite sandwich?

Hot cheese and onion panini
Lenny's Special (brie, green apple, turkey, french bread)
When I ate meat a Reuben...now, the veggie sandwich at Brady's in Hammond, LA
Whatever tastes like pizza
grilled cheese
Geneviève's Proscuitto, Fig Preserves, and Brie grilled cheese
big fan of a BLT but now I'm all about Aroma's veggie wrap with the Wasabi Mayo
That's hard! I LOVE sandwiches... I have religious feelings about sandwiches! Let's go with toasted pumpernickel bread, spicy brown mustard, aged Swiss, honey maple turkey, thick slices of white onion, thin slices of tomato, pepper, Mrs. Dash, and a couple leaves of lettuce
grilled cheese
Char grilled hamburger with grilled onions.
provolone, tomatoes, and pesto on toasted sourdough

11.What characteristic do you despise?

I hope I do not despise any thing, but I dislike swearing
Dishonesty
Apathy
a lack of consideration for others who help you
insincerity
Lack of curiosity
Un-reliability
The willful refusal to think
perpetuating ignorance
Dishonesty

rigidity/ a lack of imagination

12.Favorite item of clothing?

My Haft T-shirt
The dress I wore to Joyce's wedding and my pretty white Lucy tee
Right now - I'm not a huge fan of clothing but would lean towards my black yoga pants
???
long black dress
dark blue button down shirt
I'm not crazy about any of my clothes right now, sadly. Everything's just "okay" in my book.
Pink hippo tie with little yellow birds on their backs
my skirts
Black Capris

high heels

15.Where would you retire to?

Where I am, in a nice apartment, in a nice village with amenities and shopping
The mountains of Virginia
Somewhere on the Mediterranean yet still surrounded by family and friends. Have to figure that one out.
???
A castle in Scotland and still be with my family.
the mountains
Grants Pass, Oregon
a Tuscon villa
Southampton, England
Seaside

small fishing town in Maine

16.What was your most recent memorable birthday?

My last one in the USA
At the moment, when Mister John was here and celebrated with me and my family
One in particular does not stick out for some time now...maybe I'm just being forgetful.
Can't remember
My last birthday party; it was a surprise.
the last one at Morimoto's
My surprise birthday party in Massachusetts
Three birthdays ago when I had my first surprise party
My tea party! (so, the one that's just passed)
Every birthday is memorable (it beats the alternative!!)

This past one: party at Jo's, Richmond with the fam, drinks at the Leafe w/ friends

17.Favorite sport to watch?

Officially Formula 1 (unofficially Women’s beach volleyball)
Soccer/European football
I'm quite fond of things like cheer-leading and ice skating
NASCAR
Soccer
basketball, NBA
Hockey, Football, Baseball (in person, TV sucks)
Polo and college football
baseball
Football

I'd rather have my fingernails ripped out one by one.

24.Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us?

Nope
Afraid not... just the new studio job...
Hopefully, in the next week or two when Jude is born!
Nope
Nope
nothing really
Kelsey had her baby!
I'm going to fail the bar exam in 6 days!
Miles the gnome king! (getting a new dog)
I leave for San Francisco in a few weeks to visit my daughter then off to Hawaii for a "second honeymoon."

Haha--wouldn't be funny if an e-mail forward was the way in which y'all found out something crazy about me? Like, if I were actually pregnant or engaged or something... Haha.

25.What did you want to be when you were little?

Bigger (boy did that work)
A Broadway star
A singer
A race car driver
a ballerina or a musician
more mature
veterinarian
a senator
A paleontologist travel show host who was also a teacher and musician
older...I didn't like being the youngest child....now isn't that crazy?!!!

Batgirl

27.What is your favorite candy?

Midget Gems (it’s a British thing)
Gummy Bears
Fastbreak and Take 5
Sour Patch Kids
Heath Bar and Jelly-Belly Jelly Beans
depending on my mood, but I tend towards Twix bars or the Blue Lindt Balls
Nerds, all flavors, all forms
dark chocolate stuff
Chocolate covered Cherries
Snickers

Hershey's kisses

28.What is your favorite flower?

Orchids
Tulips and irises
Wildflowers
???
Snapdragons, tulips, and orchids
gladiolas
Calla lilies and white roses and daisies
sunflowers (best when growing and following the sun...)
calla lilies
roses

roses and orchids

31. What are you listening to right now?

Work Silence broken by key tapping
The hum of the computer
Carry You Home - James Blunt
TV
I was listening to Nirvana
A plane passing overhead, Geneviève typing, the hum of the refrigerator
Spa music
other people talking
Pandora Celtic station and my husband's annoyance at my "spending habits", well, I guess I'm not really listening to the second part
Nothing
I should've anticipated this and put something cool on--but, as it stands: nothing.

34.If you were a crayon, what color would you be?

Mid Blue
One of those multi-colored ones... swirls in the middle of purple, maroon, green, blue... glitter, too...

Deep Purple
Orange
red or gold
blood orange
Probably something goofy like bubblegum pink
dismayed... that I'm a crayon
glitter aqua
yellow
Crayola green

38.Favorite restaurant?

Thaijindesu
Can Can and Morimoto's
Brady's
Wendy's
Don't have one
Not particular, but, if I had to choose, it would probably be the take out Chinese place near our home
The Melting Pot
Hamilton's
Morimoto's and The Melting Pot
The Lark
probably Carrabba's, for consistency and quality; I like chain restaurants

40.What was your favorite toy as a child?

Bicycle
My record player

My perfume making kit - but I think this was because my mom said it was from my Dad.
N64
Clothes. I loved playing dress up.
probably a gun of some sort
Stacy, my doll
my lion-faced wagon
my stuffed animals
a Betsy-wetsy doll
my stuffed animals

49.What are you afraid of ?

Being alone
Abandonment
Not mattering when I die
Never accomplishing anything major in life
Not existing and getting old
continually hurting myself
Something or anything happening to my child
My answer is ninjas.
Failure and weakness
being dominated

I try not to live in fear. I prefer the pain of hindsight.

53.Favorite day of the week?

Saturday
Tuesdays (save this last one...)
Sunday
Saturday
Friday
Monday
Thursday
Wednesday
girls' night!
Saturday

Friday--the benefits of both seeing your friends at school and knowing you can indulge in something fun that evening

57.How many people will respond to this questionnaire?

8 I hope
5ish
2-3
???
not sure
N/A
2-3
All of them or else I will berate them incessantly until they stab out their eyes with a fork
Maybe have of 1...
1

Every SINGLE one of them. I know where they live.


It's funny what we do with the words and deeds of our beloved departed. For anyone I missed who would like to help me honor Mister John by filling out the sheet, comment here or let me know. Thanks to all of you who reached out to me in anyway today... giving me space without leaving me alone...

Tuesday: Mister John Marshall

I must forgo discussing my pointless hobbies today in order to write out some sadness...

A man who was a great friend to me, even when I was not the best person to be around, has died.

My friend Claes wrote me early this morning to tell me that the colon cancer finally got the better of him. He drove himself to the hospital last Tuesday after experiencing some new pains... apparently there was nothing the doctors could do.

He moved back to England around the same time as my French friends left the country. He returned on business occasionally, and he always took me out to the Trellis for dinner to catch up and chat.

We met in 2004 or 2005 I guess... whenever it was that I was working in the Port Warwick Harbor Espresso (which also, sadly, is no more). He was one of my morning regulars... always had a large latte (no flavor, no sugar) and a sausage, egg, and cheese on a croissant. This was a turbulent time in my life and I was playing the part of your standard, bitter, dark girl barista. He would listen and take no shame in telling me to shut-up when I was complaining needlessly or about something stupid... he was always authentic with me and strove, ever so coolly, to encourage my genuine personality to come out. For a while I wanted to think he was just this crazy British fellow satisfying his boredom by listening to me talk... but eventually, he demonstrated to me that this was utterly contrary to the truth.

He was the one to alert my loved ones and the shop owners that I was missing one morning from my post. I had spent a very bad night doing and feeling things I will not write about... but he was the first one in the shop every morning and called everyone frantically that day to make sure I was okay. This was my first indication that someone actually cared about what was happening to me (other than Anya's mom, who, at that point, was the only person I was talking to about all this mess).

After spending another half a year or so destroying myself, I left my coffee shop troubles and started working in the bookstore of Port Warwick. This shop was in a line of shops underneath the apartments of about half a dozen people. Mister John lived above the pottery shop two doors down and often stopped by with goodies for me... sometimes he would bring me sushi or some kind of dinner... but the best nights he would bring me a baking experiment (he had quite the knack for making excellent sweets). He took many stabs at making my all-time favorite dessert in many flavors. Crème brûlée... in berry flavors or chocolate or citrus... and he made a wonderful bread pudding...

I, shamefully, still have the bowl in which he made a great big batch of bread pudding for my birthday... I'm so grateful to have that memory with him. He and my French friends came to a large birthday party I had at my mom's house... looking back, it's one of the best birthdays I've ever had. Most of the people that had been like my family to me during what I refer to as "The Bad Year" was there... Mister John, Sylvia and her family, Anya and Dennis and Lilia, my aunts and uncles, some of my cousins, my parents... it was a very special event that lives cozily between memory and dream... it's all a little fuzzy, and I think it's because I was just so happy for that one evening...

So many things in my life would not have happened without Mister John... I certainly would not have had the courage to apply to W&M after being sick for so long without his encouragement. I still remember... it was a slow night at the book shop and he had brought me some sushi. We were sitting in the circle of couches next to the lovely bay window area. I was feeling healthier, but floundering with what to do with my life. I started talking to him before anyone else about going back to school. I don't think I would have been as brazen as I was to walk into W&M and ask them about transferring without his encouragement. His flippant attitude about my, to him, obvious capabilities might have been his true feelings, might have been a tactic to get me to move on, but either way it worked. I went back to TNCC, made all A's (save one B... in Statistics) and was promptly accepted the following semester.

Mister John has made other lasting contributions to my life. He took me to see my favorite jazz artist, Peter Cincotti, in Morgantown, WV (incidentally, David was there at the time still taking classes... for all we know, we walked by one another). He reserved adjoining suites for us at a nearby hotel and drove us there and back home again. I was dead set on trying to meet Peter... and I did. I saw a small handful of people walking down a hall into a small room. I followed them to see what they knew that I didn't. A woman saw me and talked to me as if I was meant to be there. "Oh, you're just in time," she said. "Peter will be joining us momentarily. Help yourself to coffee and dessert!" I thanked her awkwardly and hurriedly texted Mister John my location and to come back there. Peter walked in and I just stood there, heart racing, and stared like a ninny. A couple of blond bimbos walked up to him asking him all sorts of stupid questions. Mister John poked me in the back with his camera and said, "Well? Go over there, dummy! Save him from those idiots!" I had learned by then that if Mister John thought I could do something, I probably could (that in itself is amazing gift he gave to me... someone I trusted with positive truths about myself), so I walked right up to the man and we actually had an interesting chat. Mister John, like a dutiful, loving father-figure, stood back and photographed me talking to Peter and his bass player, Barack Mori.

I'm wishing I had insisted on taking one with Mister John... these band pictures are the only I have to remember him by... and like our friendship, it's so much centering on me, making me happy, being there as I grow and change.

I can't imagine I gave back to him in kind what he has given me...

And I'm not alone. He was a dear, true friend, to his small, intimate circle of people. It has taken my French friends a week to tell me the news... I know Sylvia is devastated. Mister John was the sort of friend on whom she could depend at a moment's notice for anything... and I do mean anything...

To keep track, here are some of our exchanges that are particularly significant to me since he moved back to England:

8/07

Are you well?

Are you safe?

How was the flying?

How is the UK?

How are you?

-g

I am very well, safe, sound and unpacked

The weather is a cool 70 nice and dry

The flight was good I slept 5 hours out of the 61/2 of the big flight and landed on time, my limo was waiting and I was in my temp apartment by lunch

But missing you already.

Love John

11/07

Hey beautiful, sorry I have not been in touch for a while.

How are you, how is David? When are you going to come to England and stay with me.

Happy Turkey day for Thursday, are you cooking anything for a big dinner somewhere.

Missing you & loving you

John XX

Dear Mister John!
I know your birthday is around this time of year, so you have been
consistently on my mind. School has been very busy and David has been
attentive and wonderful. I've missed you and thought of you and
promise I will provide you with some details once I have another
chance to write. Please, tell me that you are well, that your birthday
was happy, and that you know I think of you often.
My love always, g

My very last exchange with him led me to the same fate I shared with the news about my grandmother:

4/09

Sorry I have not been in touch for a while but trying to get my head
around everything first

As I told you my operation went well but I was aware that there was a
problem with a lot of lymph nodes that surrounded my tumour, the
histology has come back and the news was not good.

The cancer has metastasised and a lot of the lymph nodes that where
removed where infected, but they could not get them all because of the
blood vessels, so the cancer is free to go where it wants too.

Chemo is the next step and should start beginning of May; however this
is not a cure but only a way of slowing down any spread, no real cure
yet for this.

My doctors have been very honest with me and have told me that with
treatment it will be possible to keep me going for three years, possibly
five.

I am talking to HR about my options possibly early retirement on ill
health, this would allow me to move back north and enjoy the time.

Sorry but it's hard to write
these mails sometimes so I have been very matter of fact I hope this
does not upset you.


Mister John,

I'm sorry it has taken me so long to write to you... rest assured that it's not to do with not thinking of you. After your last message, I just haven't known what to say. What do you tell a dear friend who announces that he's not expecting to live much longer... though I know you and how you live... You'll make every second count, I'm sure, and I admire and love that about you so very much.

What can I say, my friend?

I just don't know what to say...

I finally let go of the Alice wallet I've been using for years and switched to the one you gave me... so, it's part of my daily life, thinking of you.

I guess I just wanted to tell you that...
...because I just don't know what to say.

I'm not going to lie and say I'm not deeply saddened by the news... but, as I already said, I know no one knows how to live in the moment like you.

-g

What could I have said?

It's this illness that kept him from coming to my wedding... the last time I saw him was last summer when we went to the Trellis to catch up.

The world has lost a generous and kind soul... as if we could afford to lose anymore of those.

Having heard the news late, I'm not sure how to probably mourn. He was a fan of those "Getting to know me" fill-outs, so, maybe I'll send it out... visit his favorite places for him... Apparently his favorite restaurant was Thaijindesu in Port Warwick, so, I might go out for sushi sometime. Perhaps Saturday... his favorite day of the week.

I cannot express my love for this friend. How much I owe him... and how I will now never be able to repay. I could have written him more between then and last week... but, like my grandmother, I'm guessing my denial delayed my response in reaching out... you want to believe that there's more time. I'm ashamed I haven't learned anything from that experience... or at least not what I should have learned.

But, he would smack me for saying that. He never let me get away with any self-deprecating remarks. If I take anything from this, I hope to learn how to spread light the way he did to those he loved...

I did not deserve a friend like you, Mister John... which is probably the precise reason you came into my life. I'll never know how to thank you for helping me find myself...

Monday Review: Thank you, Coach Coccolli...

There are some, as they call it, "B" movies, that most of us would prefer not to admit that we like. Maybe even some "C" films with an "F" for effort. The bad films for which we more willingly make excuses tend to originate from afternoons on our bellies in our parents' living rooms growing up. Movies like The Last Unicorn or Flight of Dragons (well, that's what I was watching anyway). Beyond that, we hear what the critics say, we see what good film making is supposed to produce, and we make our judgments accordingly. However, once in a while, there's a movie that you know the critics and most people are not going to like, but it does just what the great Jim Henson says a movie should:

When I go see a film, when I leave the theater... I like to be happier than I was when when I went in, I like to leave with an up feeling, and I like a picture to have a sense of substance, to be about life and the things that matter to me.

And after seeing this movie one more time, I'm thinking of something my ninth grade World History teacher said to me as I was saying sorry to someone about my appreciation of a certain book or song...

Never apologize to anyone for liking something.

And with that in mind, here's my modest review of the film Penelope.

(from www.wildaboutmovies.com)

This story is about a girl born to a blue blood, upper class family. 5 generations before her due date, a great-great-great-great grandfather had an affair with a servant girl. His family talked him out of marrying her and she killed herself. Well, he screwed with the wrong commoner, because the young woman's mother happened to be a witch who cursed the family... the next girl born to this line would have the face of a pig and it would stay that way until one of her own kind accepts her as she is "til death do us part." And so Penelope was born and her mother consciously avoided the public ever seeing her. She went through great lengths (including blinding a reported in one eye after he attempted to get a photo of the pig baby for the papers). By the age of 18, the mother began an elaborate blue blood match-making project to break her daughter's curse. Of course, every man who got a glimpse of her pig nose would scream like a girl and run, save one... naturally. One gentleman, hired by the one-eyed reporter, got into the line and started to make conversation with Penelope (and clearly developes feelings for her). After a handful of misunderstandings, Penelope runs away from home to roam the world on her own (wrapping her face in a green and purple spotted scarf). She makes friends, has her first beer on tap, sees sights she's only read about, etc. Of course, her parents eventually find her and the secret comes out. She reveals her face to the world and becomes very popular. In an attempt to save face, one of the suitors who ran from her asks her to marry him. When the pressure of the marriage builds up, Penelope finally breaks the curse herself (all she had to do was accept herself for what she was) and starts a life of her own.

Sounds like a handful of fairy tales you've already heard of, right?

One reviewer said it was basically Cinderella meets The Ugly Duckling... and I guess he could be right. Thing is, I was never a huge fan of either story... maybe they needed each other to make a more interesting story.

Besides, the love that one witnesses in this story is not of the Oh-isn't-she-pretty-Can-I-keep-her, Disney sort of love like that of Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, or their precious Cinderella... it's a real love that acts out of wanting happiness for the other person...

...but I'll get to that.

The cast is terrific... but we all know that great actors don't make for a great movie all on their own (if you haven't seen the Anthony Hopkins' film about Kellogg... well... don't...). The irreplaceable and wide-eyed Christina Ricci (Addams Family) plays the part of Penelope and, one of my favorite crazy people, Catherine O'Hara (Best in Show) plays the part of her mother. Peter Dinklage (Chronicles of Narnia, Prince Caspian) portrays the sarcastic reporter out to capture the pig girl's image. And then, the love interest is played by one of my recently acquired favorite actors, James McAvoy (Atonement). There's nothing that needs to be said for these people... they all played their parts very well.

I appreciate this story for young girls. With all the crap that's out there for teenagers (Do not get me started on the new vampire craze) here's a simple story that I think holds true for most girls at one point or another. We've all had a day where we wanted to hide ourselves from the world... be it due to a bad perm (though your mother begged you to reconsider) or a wart, we have all wanted to avoid being seen, judged, ridiculed. Though this girl endured the pressure her whole life, that one flaw can seem like an eternity for a girl. I remember once in grade school (I must have been 7 or 8) I had a cold sore and my mother would not let me stay home from school... so I walked out of the house wearing a bandana... train-robber style... And you can bet your life I wore that ridiculous thing all day to hide the ugly thing from my peers.

Penelope has to learn to appreciate her looks (or moreover, all that makes her who she is) to break the curse. Though the curse the witch cries out in the beginning implies that the love debt must be repaid, Penelope and her family had the power to reverse the magic all along.

Her mother is a piece of work, though, and certainly does not help things. Mrs. Wilhern has been horrified since the day the pig child was born of how it changes her own way of social living. She works violently at concealing the girl... there's this heartbreaking scene where a little pig faced imp runs to the gates of her home where other kids are playing. Just as the kids approach to get a calm, closer look, the mother rushes out, scoops the girl up, and pries her hands off the gate by pulling her away. The mother teaches Penelope at home and makes certain she has a decent education, etiquette, etc. But Penelope never leaves the house, never interacts with people outside her immediate family, and check out this destructive mantra:

The real you is inside there somewhere just waiting to come out after the curse is broken.

Thanks, Mom.

Who needs Cinderella's wicked step-mother when you have a mother of your own to completely miss the point of her occupation. Trying so hard to correct her daughter's "ugly" situation, she never focused on who Penelope is as a person, what matters to her, what she wants to do with her life, etc. Of course, her mother realizes in the end that she could have broken the curse heraelf years ago... and while that sounds anti-climatic, I think that this is one of the most realistic scenarios I've ever seen in a fairy tale. Mothers in their zeal to protect their children can tend to forget that they really can't. You end up having to let go of your children and let them fight their own battles. The best one can do is instill in them a self-confidence, a self-respect to carry them through the trials of sharing their flaws with strangers and lovers alike.

(from myvespa.files.wordpress.com)

Penelope makes one friend after running away and living on her own. Resse Witherspoon (Sweet Home Alabama) plays the part of Annie who takes the scarfed Penelope on her vespa as she makes her deliveries so Penelope has a chance to see the sights she missed out on all her life. Even after Penelope's face is finally revealed, Annie still shares a friendship with the pig lady. I think this happens in our "real lives," too... it's not our Prince Charmings that always open our eyes or lead us into a new world... more often, it's our friends who are among the first people in all our lives to like us for who we actually are...

There are strands of cheap jokes (the buffoon blue blood and his clumsiness with the dwarfed reporter) and too-obvious use of computer graphics in this movie (a camera shot slides alongside a tree with falling autumn leaves)... but they work together to create a light-hearted tale. This movie is not trying to be anything other than what it is. You can pick it apart if it's attempting to be an epic romance, but it knows it's a family fairy tale and takes itself lightly while delivering lessons to be taken seriously.

But, for once (because this is almost always the part that makes me gag), the love story is what gets me the most...

The reporter mistakenly takes Johnny Martin as a high society blue blood and hires him to get into the Wilhern house to get his long awaited photo of Penelope. Johnny hears his price and takes him up on the job. When he goes into the house, he misses the preview of her face that the other men see (causing them, as usual, to run away). He stays in the room and waits. I really get a kick out of the device in this room...

(from www.collider.com)

It's a two-way mirror on which Penelope's side is the one looking into the other room while all Johnny sees is his own reflection. Mics and speakers broadcast their voices into the rooms on both sides of the mirror. In reality, there's a distance we all tend to create when getting to know people and learning how to be ourselves with them... I think it's simple and clever. They sit right next to each other as they discuss music (the scene during which she's guessing what instrument he can play is just SO freaking CUTE), play chess, and talk about the things that Johnny does (and no longer does) in the outside world... but all through a boundary of glass. (One could go deeper and see how love both reflects our true nature as well as helps us to see ourselves in someone else, but, it's late, so, I won't take it that far.)

(from http://z.about.com/d/movies)

Johnny has given up on life to gamble... the events leading to this lifestyle choice are unclear, but he shares this information with Penelope who, rather than pitying him, encourages him to get back to what he loves... music. After she unveils herself to him and comes to his side of the mirror, he is shocked, but he doesn't run. Unaccustomed to being stared at rather than shunned immediately, Penelope hastily retreats. He walks outdoors to the waiting reporter, smashes him camera, and tells him Penelope is not the monster others have fabled her to be and to leave her alone. When Penelope screws up her courage to talk to him asking him to marry her, he refuses, and she assumes the worse.

What's great about that idea is that he actually did not refuse because of her face. But because of her assumption, they part ways. She finds herself while running away, and he also rediscovers his need to play music and makes strides to get a gig again. Johnny quits gambling and negotiates with an old employer to come back to the playing hall. My Russian father used to tell me that relationships are in the best position for success if two complete people are coming together... if you are half-people, less than yourself and all that you are, something is missing when the agreement is made and the deal is liable to fall through. The lovers in this story repair the damage they've done to themselves and rejoin at the end. Johnny has a chance to tell her that he said, "No," because he was not a blue blood and, therefor, unable to break the curse. He wanted her to have what she wanted... and he thought that meant letting her go to marry some well-bred twit.

But we all have to break our own curses. No prince saved anyone in this story. Two people simply found a way to be themselves and to find someone who liked that version of who they were best of all.

This story is a reminder of all the things I learned as I got older and that I am perfectly comfortable passing down to the generations to come. Penelope was a book originally that I'll try to check out sometime soon to see if it's composed of the same "realness" that makes the pixie dust on this story sparkle...

Sunday Reflections: Too tired to think

An unusual bout of motion sickness has sort of taken over my weekend... leaving me useless... which drives me insane...

To both obey my need to write and to recover, I'm making a list:

Things I Want to do Before the Move to New York

Local haunts I wish to meaningfully visit

1. The Painted Lady Tea Room
   
2. The DeWitt Wallace Museum
3. The Norfolk Opera House
4. A Chef's Kitchen
   
5. Fat Canary

Activities I want to experience

1. Picking my own fruits and vegetables at a Virginia farm
2. Relaxing at the Virginia Wine Festivals
3. Yoga on Virginia Beach
4. Walking the Noland Trail
   
5. A Girlfriends' Trip

Movies I want to catch

1. 9
2. Amelia
3. Julie/Julia
   
4. The Princess and The Frog
5. District 9

Books outside my book club I want to read

1. PRODIGAL SUMMER by Barbara Kingsolver
2. WUTHERING HEIGHTS by Emily Brontë
3. Something Victorian that Caro mentioned to me that we could read together
4. KABBALAH; A LOVE STORY by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner
   
5. THE DEMON-HAUNTED WORLD; SCIENCE AS A CANDLE IN THE DARK by Carl Sagan

Things I need to find in NY to bring home with me

1. A quiet place for tea and reading
2. A new hot yoga studio
3. An apartment with a guest room
4. A favorite movie theater close to home
5. Dunkin' Donuts