Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing
Sunday, Nov. 06, 2005 - 5:13 a.m.
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Sadness on Lennon's Birthday
Sometimes I just wonder if i am born with extra sadness cells.
I don't know. I totally loved sad books and stories when I was a kid.
Copper Sunrise, which is a wrenchingly sad tale of the friendship between a white boy and one of the last of a quickly vanishing group of natives.
I Heard the Owl Call My Name. Sadness and death in a NorthCoast native village. Life is the living and memory of those left behind by those who die.
Incident at Hawk's Hill. A small boy who gets along better with animals than humans sort of 'runs away' and is raised by a female badger whose babies have died. Sad ending.
The Red Pony. How they find the pony after the storm, with vultures on its prone body.
The Noonday Friends where the main characters are impoverished with a dad who can't hold down a job.
I was a cheery kid. A real cheery kid.
When I was a teenager, I equated love with sadness. Deep deep in the heart sadness, with infinite caring, but always steeped in sadness.
The divorce. My grandmother dying. Though at least she was very old. Then later my brother's suicide. Multiple relationship breakups. My mom getting chronic fatigue. My infertility. My mom moving away.
Ahhh. Sadness.
John Lennon's birthday today. 65 he would have been.
They are playing songs from his demo album. And covers of his songs on a compilation cd for Q Magazine in the UK. Very good. But sad. Songs like Imagine, and Beautiful Boy.
I remember when John Lennon died. 25 years ago. Walking across the snowy park the day of his funeral, with stark black tree branches against a whitegrey sky, as the church bells pealed out beatles songs. Again so sad.
We played Imagine at my brother's funeral I think. We certainly played 'Let it Be'. That song tears me up every time. I cannot tell you how much I miss my brother. And how much I miss my mother. And how much I miss the mother I had before she got ill, so young to be old.
I cannot tell you how sad I am not to have my house filled with family. A partner and kids, my mother, my brother and his wife and kids. My cousins kids... well, that one is my fault. I moved and they stayed back home. My kids were supposed to play with their kids, the way we played together when we were young. Sad that my kidlovingdog will maybe be too old or dead by the time I get kids in my house. Sad.
Strength maybe is finding the happy despite knowing of all the sad. The babies dying, the mothers crying, the loss of health and home, job and hope. I don't know.
Though maybe I should be glad that John Lennon isn't here to see what is happening in the States and in the world these days.
Happy Birthday Would've Been, John.
Beautiful Boy.
ps, fascinatingly I found a book review site, and almost all the kids totally panned I Heard The Owl Call My Name, which I loved enough as a 12 yr old to keep my copy of til I am 42. What the hey. Shows I am an atypical child I suppose.
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previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009
