My friends Jim and Karen had something life-altering happen to them.  Jim is a school teacher where I live and he was in an auto accident that left him with a spinal cord injury that has changed his life.  And by his side, his wife Karen who has been thrust into the role of caretaker in a way she probably never imagined. 

Karen getting choked up during thanks at the end of the fundraiser banquet. She is standing next to Jim, who promised "less blubbering" when he took the microphone.

We haven’t seen Jim and “Sweetie” (as Karen is known to some of her friends) in months.  We are in Maryland and they have been away at the Shepherd Center  in Atlanta, Georgia.  

Some of their friends arranged a fundraiser to help with medical expenses and the costs involved with making their home more accessible to Jim.  That fundraiser was on Friday and it is the first time many of us had seen them in months.  And the first time a number of us had seen them at all since the accident.

It’s hard to describe the way I was feeling knowing that I would get to see them again after such a life-altering ordeal.  I was a little nervous.  And also sort of removed from the situation.  A bit outside of myself.  It was a sensation I’d not really experienced before, so it’s difficult to describe. I made a joke about feeling like I was about to meet a rock star after the show.  The joke was awkward, I think my delivery was a bit off, but perhaps the sentiment was understood.  I was excited to see them and to be around their energy.   I didn’t know exactly what to say or how hard to hug Jim or if it was ok to hug Jim.  I followed his lead.  I just wanted to be there, to show I care.

Jim made several jokes during my time there that were very, well…Jim.  He had Jade laughing and when we got in car Jade said, “I’m glad that Jim hasn’t lost his Jim…”  And if ever there was a person who could make it through something like this on attitude alone, it would be Jim.  Sometimes I think he is helping Sweetie as much as she is helping him.  They are a force of nature together.  They are inspiring.  They make me believe in the kind of love that goes beyond the fluff of romance and digs down to the core of loving a soul, not just the vessel. 

Through all of this Jim and Sweetie have not lost their muchness.  I feel privileged to know them.

***

Jim and Jackie - aka "Wondertwins."

Please read my friend Jackie’s website that was inspired by Jim and Sweetie.  It provides insightful thoughts for anybody who is a friend of a person who has had something like this happen to them.  You will also find useful links and information there.

A Fragile Hope

There are reality TV princesses receiving $25,000 birthday parties and kids who have their own posh apartments at fifteen.  Does it occur to anybody else that if a poor person dropped their teen off to live by themselves, it would land them in some trouble?  Solid gold birthdays won’t make up for the missing time and love from these kids lives.  As a result they walk around feeling like we all owe them something. You can hear it in the click of their Manolo Blahniks as they trot by with their noses in the air.

There are plenty of annoying things about young people.  When I say, “young people,”  I don’t mean the adorable 7 year old missing her two front teeth and loves fairy coloring books.  I mean the kid who has hit puberty and has suddenly decided that 1) Nothing can really hurt them much as long as they have plenty of Red Bull or Rock Star on hand and 2) That all of the important knowledge of the world has been imparted to them and that once somebody hits 25 years of age, all of this, like, amazing knowledge, like, falls out of your ears.  That’s why they know everything and you are so, like, lame.

Now 40 years old, I have been annoyed by teens for well onto fifteen years.  Their carelessness makes me crazy;  sitting in the tiny car next to me with their stereo vibrating everything in a one-mile radius and none of them are buckled.  Sometimes I have the urge to follow them all the way home and tell their mothers.

But I’ve realized in recent years that the most annoying young people are the ones you don’t really know.  That is, if you get to know some of these kids, they are full of thoughts, ideas and curiosity.  Not all of them.  But there is as large a range of younger people as their are older ones.  Some are self-absorbed, materialistic brats.  Others are interesting, caring, creative and responsible individuals.

I was helping at the theatre, painting with an old pal and some new pals, just helping out a tiny bit for Port Tobacco Players Producers.  I didn’t arrive until 10pm and Jade and I ended up working until nearly 4am.  During that time several of the younger members of the theatre were talking about everything from the art on the Led Zeppelin cover to Disney executives.  They were playing and thoroughly enjoying music from shows, Cole Porter, newer alternative bands and even some music from the 1930s.  As they verbally danced with each other, quoting Monty Python, talking about Star Trek and ideas for performance art pieces all the while they helped paint and cobble together the set stuff,  I just marveled at them.  When I was their age I was not that witty and creative.  Admittedly I was already a mom at 15 years old, so much of my time was spent working and tending to a child, so I couldn’t spend time watching Monty Python or doing volunteer work because I was busy watching Sesame Street, doing homework and changing diapers.  However, these people really were, well, pretty damned cool and interesting.  They all easily kept up their ends of the conversation with people twice their age.  Their interests were diverse and they kept making me think of all the other younger folks I know who just keep impressing me with their witty banter and endless imaginations and impressive talents.

Lately I have been lamenting a little about my age.  Not my age exactly, but how old Will and I were when we met.  And still, it isn’t about the age so much as it is about what we missed out on together.  You don’t get your youth back.  You can stay young at heart, but there are things that will never happen for you past a certain age.  It’s kind of a wistful feeling sometimes.  I’m not “old” really, but I am older than I imagined being when I was twenty years old.  You hear yourself say things that you only equated with old folks.  And sometimes you laugh at yourself.  Other times, you feel a little pang of loss.

I won’t spin my wheels on it too long, because really I am lucky to have met Will at all.  I am lucky that I am basically healthy.  And besides, we can visit all parts of ourselves in conversation and then the world is timeless.  It might make a good story.  Something to write about.  We can’t really go back.  Or can we?

These phases are both wonderful and stressful.   I tend to get a lot of writing done and art completed.  But I also imagine horrible scenarios, worry incessantly and have difficulty making myself go to bed, unless it’s to have sex.  Even that gets me all energized – it flips on all sorts of switches and makes my brain buzz with activity.

It’s always this mix of good energy and bad energy – creative thoughts and scary ones.

Last night (this morning!) I struggled to push away thoughts by watching television, since I’d already done writing and edited photos over a long day of work.  I pondered my Weighting project and where it was going.  I replayed a phone conversation with my sister in my head. I  wondered what I should do to honor my parent’s 41st wedding anniversary that I forgot to commemorate this past week.  I tried to remember where my address book and stamps were to send of the letters I wrote to my grandmothers.  They made it into envelopes and with their names, they just need those final steps to get them out there.  I wrote a grocery list and did laundry on and off.  All while watching some crime shows, which only fuel my fears.

Finally I felt myself dropping off.  I decided to go to bed.  But the act of walking to my room, using the restroom, brushing my teeth and climbing into bed woke me up a bit.  While I lay there my brain began racing again. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.  Well, the middle of the beginning, anyway.

Will I had taken Jade to Applebees earlier in the day for a dinner break.  They both sat across from me and Jade was tired and rested her head on Will who gave it a gentle pat while we waited for food.  Then later they were both singing a song together from West Side Story.  I took a little video of that and posted it on Facebook.  Well, it just touched my heart I guess.  I am glad Jade has two father figures in her life who care so much about her.  It’s nice she and Will have so much in common.  But those happy thoughts started to become, “What if I die?”  I wondered, if I died, if Jade would still be able to spend as much time with Will as she does now.  I supposed not.  I wondered if they would even be living in the same city any longer.  I wondered where Will would live if Robert moved into the house with Rachelle.  I started to get choked up with thoughts of what might happen to their relationship.  I feel Will really represents me and my perspective and if I were gone, I would want that very nurturing, art loving, theatre loving influence in her life still, on a regular basis.

Those thoughts alone weren’t what pushed me to sobbing, though.  During the processes of thinking these thoughts I felt a huge hole in my heart suddenly appear.  It had already been there, but I didn’t realize it at first.  I can only liken it to the feeling you have of wanting your mother when you’re sick or this sense of security you get when you are a long-time couple and family with somebody.  As I lay there thinking what might become of Will and Jade if I died, I realized that the warm safe feeling I once had that Robert was “in this with me” was gone.  It’s like realizing your mother isn’t going to come hold your hair while you get sick, not because she can’t but because she doesn’t want to be around you anymore.  It’s a sinking feeling and the tears started coming out in waves of sobs.  I felt horrible for waking Will up.  He was only four hours into his sleep and only had an hour left before getting up.  I kept apologizing for crying and he kept petting me and telling me it was going to be ok and not to worry.  He asked what was wrong and I told him it was hard to explain.  It was like realizing I couldn’t have my mother if I was sick.  It was a hole.  It was a void and mourning and overwhelmed me with sadness.  Eventually the crying exhausted me and I found sleep for about an hour, then had to wake up to start my day.

I saw Jackie in the morning and told her some of how I’d been feeling just a few hours before.  She said that with such a long time relationship and history, that I would have moments like that for years to come.  In part because there is still love and caring there.  If there wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be sad and feel loss the way I do, I suppose.

I wrote this blog a dozen times in my head, just to work out the feelings.  I guess that alone helps.  It doesn’t make the hurt go away, but it does help me understand it and cope a bit.

Anyway, these projects are a lot of fun for me and they are very rewarding.

Before the weekend is out I plan to make prints available through my etsy store!  Send me lots of energy to help me out!

These are not the last of the Snow Angels photos either – there are more to come!

I am hunting down old top hats for the next one – for Will to wear.  And I would like something in linen, cotton and silk.  The party was small, but it was just enough people to stuff my living room up.  We were going to have it in the yard under the canopy and if it hadn’t been over a hundred degrees with the heat index, it woulda been perfect!   We still had fun and were a bit cooler, though I could only manage to get my house temperature down to about 79 degrees!  This way we could talk and eat comfortably and also play Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland in the background on the television.

Jade had tried on several outfits and finally found the perfect ensemble which was merely layers from the studio closet.  She’s quite clever and theatrical, that girl.  Amber is too and I think not only would they both have come up with something wonderful, they probably would have put on a little show for us.  Amber would have had fun.  I miss you Bertie!

My friends Heather, Shelia, Angela and Leslie all came over.  We had plenty of treats and ICED tea and lemonade.  At some point I had whispered to Will that perhaps he should read us some Alice in Wonderland (he does great voices for stories!) and so at the table I announced, “Who wants some entertainment?”  Angela said, “Will!  Take it off!”  Well, Shelia decided that was not very tea-party appropriate so we put up our pinkies and asked him to “disrobe” by chanting it very politely.  At this time, Jade exited the room, but returned quickly as we were only teasing and Will stayed…um, robed. Will didn’t end up reading as the party had already gone on for some time.  Maybe next tea party!

I’m on my damned cycle, so I am sipping on fruit smoothie in nice stretchy yoga pants and am going to catch up on blogging and photos.

My sister came up for a visit the weekend before this past one and helped me set up for my “Faerie Party” (co-hosted by my long-time friend Jackie).  Jackie and I have hosted faerie parties in the past.  We had a gap of about four or five years where we didn’t have one and this party was to test things out.  To get our feet wet and see how it went.  It was much less structured than our past parties – which all had contests for costumes, food, drink and wooing.  We decided that the party went well and that we will have another one next year, but we will also be returning to our previous format of contests.  We did give out awards, including a big beautiful book of fairy art, some bellydance DVDs, notecards and also author Keith Donohue most generously sent me a signed copy of  The Stolen Child to give out as an award.

The evening was full of all sorts of fun and not much mayhem, which was great.  Not that I’m against a little mayhem from time to time, but in the case of this hot day of fun and costumes, less mayhem suited the occasion.

It was opening weekend of a show Jade was cast in – her first role where she “has a name” as she puts it.  The first show where, “I’m not dancer number three or kangaroo number two.”  It had been so busy in part because also Will volunteered to be in the show, in  rather large role.  The Diviners was out at a theatre I used to do a little work at; Hard Bargain Players in Accokeek.  Our friend Brian Donohue (brother of Keith mentioned above) had been cast as C.C. Showers, but fell ill (and is on the mend now) a week before opening.  Will stepped in to help the show go on.  After all, some of his favorite people were in the show, including Jade and his pal Sean was directing – his directorial debut – how could he let the folks down?  I think he did amazingly, though I didn’t see much of him for two weeks as every possible moment was spent memorizing lines, then blocking.  Everybody did an amazing job and I was so proud of Jade and Will.  As a result though, Will was late to the party, so it was really great that I had friends and family come and help put things together.  I saw the show every night except that night.  And Brian and I sat next to each other closing night and watched it.  Other very supportive friends came out to see Jade and Will and all the others, as well.

For a couple of weeks we’d been prepping the yard.  Even Robert and his girlfriend Rachelle and her sons came over to help get the yard tidied up.  Jackie did her fair share as co-hostess with painting and melting in the hot sun.  Bless her heart, he face gets all red, just like Jade’s.  Man it was hot those weeks!  My friends Leslie and Natalie came over and helped decorate, make star garlands, sew pillows (which my friend Amy also helped with) and of course my sister Brandi and her friend Janice helped with some of the unglamorous stuff like scooping doggie poop and hanging up costumes and lights.

Christiana and her boy Jason loaned us their gorgeous renaissance tent – it was awful nice to watch Jason set that tent up by himself – I think the ladies helping in the yard were hotter from watching him than from the 95 degree weather.  And boy does Christiana and Jason make a good looking couple!

What I’m trying to say is that I had plenty of help and generosity from all over the place.  It made for a nice mood for the party.

Here are some photos from the event.