Eleventh

VV at Val'sI’m in Corvallis with Valori and Courtney and just woke up wanting to remember the name of some snazzy new blog but of course it has gone cold in the slide of dreams – Ice becomes Fire? Fire turns Ice? Silly.
It’s the 11th month. My brain is wrapped round this next period in some time warping way but the emotional part of myself is starting to loosen. Nothing can bring him back. Let go. Let go. Still I’m going to recognize the steps of his dying in this month… the unfailing and irreversible reality of how it was rather than what I wish it had been (in other words trying to figure out anymore what we might have done differently to alter the course.) I just don’t want to relive a lot of the painful parts, even if I will. One thing for sure though is at this time, even one month before his death he was still living completely and with gusto even as things like his appetite and energy were not as good as they had been.
In Glacier, on the fire road I looped on below the higher trails closed by the fire, I could feel a unity with Michael. I don’t know how to explain it but it was like a dual occupancy of my heart. In the quiet of this pre-dawn time here with my friends I can almost sense it still within me… just a faint “other” that nestles inside me and gives me the slightest peace.
In 2012 as we headed north for our Canada adventure, our last before the cancer, (all in the archived July 2012 http://www.veggievoyagers.blogspot.com) we stayed here with Valori and Courtney while Michael assembled the solar panels (he finished installing them out along the coast) and the whole project took a number of days to complete but he was happy in the act of problem solving and completely single focused as I came and went on walks with Val or rides into town on my bike. Valori was planting under the fir at the intersection of the road and the driveway back then and she later called that the Michael Healing Garden which I appreciated. Now the plants are tousled and woody and in last sprawling summer best before winter. Everything inextricably moves through its stages and even M in boatas I make a big deal about what has already occurred I and my friends are also winding our ways toward death. The trip has been good for me. I have shaken off some resistance I had to Chico and the people I am in community with there. The isolation that closed in after Michael’s death I think will be less when I get home… which is good with winter coming on. There’s some ways that all the kindness and companionship at the stops along the way have refueled me. There’s also a gratefulness I have to having the traveling end… a month seems like a long time… and now that month creeps toward Sept 22nd, the beginning of his end on Sept. 27th and I’m less afraid of the misery of the anniversary.
I’ll just close by remembering his sweetness (no, he wasn’t always sweet but it was there and woven into everyday, that quality I loved so much) and what a Good person he was, All that was Good of him which remains, often hidden or insignificant to others, but relished and frequented by me as I continue to move through the world and through memory. I still Love you Michael. It’s almost like part of me wants to tell part of him not to be afraid this month facing the death he already faced. Who knows?

Amelia, who was two weeks old when we came here last. Change happens!

Amelia, who was two weeks old when we came here last. Change happens!

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