Today Amy Winehouse died. Someone posted a joke about it. I was livid. How can one joke about death? Did no one think about the ones who loved her, how sad and distraught they are? That she will never breathe another breath or sing another note? That she will never wake up to see a new day?
Death has been removed from the fabric of our culture. We never see people die. Nobody thinks about the fact that each day might be their last. We care about ridiculous thing and make talk so small its practically microscopic.
I need to surrender and let the reality flow through me. Death is our forgotten master.
July 23, 2011
July 19, 2011
Birthday breakfast
We have a couple friends coming over tonight, that couldn't be here on the 9th.
I think I will spend the day sorting Lev's things.
He is sorely missed on this day, and always.
If you are wondering what to do, eat a
piece of pie and light a candle.
July 17, 2011
part of an email from April, Zay's mom
When parts of Zay's life happen, I often think of Lev and, say, whether he would be partaking in (or instigating?) some of that mischief and adventure. I tend to think so. Zay and Lev would be doing their spontaneous solo camping trips and sunrise hikes, and still sailing straight into the intense storms of summer. (You remember that story.)
I don't think any of Zay's good friends now love him as much as Lev did. I think their relationship taught Zay how to really love someone. I look at his (relatively) superficial friends now and they're fine kids, but I tend to sort of measure them up as to how deserving they are for the love they are about to receive from Zay. All that leftover love that Lev left behind, just always looking for a home. Well, that's one way that Lev lives on in Zay... in the love and joy that he spreads around because he and Lev taught each other how to trust and love with such abundance.
April
April
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