Not here

I didn't expect to feel as broken as I do at the news of your passing. I didn't expect your passing either. It was a shock. It remains a shock. I know there are stages of grief. At some point you accept it. But even as I know the process, I cannot even begin to correlate it with you. 

I feel destabilised. Like everything has been pulled apart. I know it's less than the heavy devastation that your family and close friends feel. I know I'm just part of your past and I didn't expect to be in your future. But I did expect you to have one. I thought you'd have grandchildren. I thought you'd play your bass until you had to walk on stage with a walking stick. I thought your life would be long and abundant and brilliant and I do think it was all those things but it was just nowhere near long enough.  

Come back Bean! Not to me but to your people. Your life. Your family. Your friends. All I want is to occasionally glance at what you're doing and feel happy to have been part of your past. I don't want this horrific not-here-ness. It doesn't make any sense. 

💔💔💔

Rejection of transience

As Anya, ex Vengeance Demon, newish human wisely once said in response to the passing of Buffy's mum: 

"I don't understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she's- There's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid. It's mortal and stupid. And-and Xander's crying and not talking, and-and I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well, Joyce will never have any more fruit punch ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why."

On some level that's how we all feel. We cannot comprehend how someone who was there, is now not in their body. It is  painful. All we know is aliveness. We do not know death. So when someone we love is no longer here, nothing makes sense. We feel newly human or like an alien or a Vengeance Demon. We cannot comprehend it. And we don't even want to. We just want to change it. 

Our connection to a person is tied to their soul. Of course it is. That's part of their aliveness. But it's their soul within their body. Every word they spoke. Each time they moved. The shared moments. The memories. The quirks. The everything that made them, them. So how can they be anything else, other than a beautiful solid form. How can they be gone. Or even transmuted into a soul outside a body. It is simply impossible to comprehend. 

I'm with Anya. I feel just as she did. I feel lost and confused and angry at the transient nature of the human experience. 

I know that cannot change reality but I wish that I could. 

Part of me

You are part of me. 

It never faded. 

It did not age. 

It did not stop. 

It folded.

Sometimes opening. 

Sometimes resting. 

But never gone. 

You are part of me. 

Always. 

Remembering

I carry you with me. I always did. You have always been the person I spoke of the most, when talking about my past life. Always with fondness. Always with care. You were my friend. For a time you were more. But sat against the backdrop of friendship. 

I hadn't seen you or spoken to you for many years. I would have done but I understood why you could not. 

I didn't know you were ill. I wish I had somehow gleaned it but I didn't. And now you are not here. I hope you are somehow everywhere. 

I hope I did discern your presence behind me, comforting hand on my shoulder, as I say on the sofa and cried. I stopped crying and looked up. I felt briefly comforted. Was that you?  It felt like the hand that used to gently push me out of shops, when I was getting carried away with purchases. It felt warm. It felt peaceful. It felt like you. 

I hope I will see you in my dreams soon. I hope you are safe in another realm. I hope you are peaceful. 

I miss you. Even though I hadn't seen you for years. I still miss you. 

I wonder if I'll always miss you. 

Xxxxxx

Dirty Dancing again

Like many women around my age, I hear the words Dirty Dancing and automatically transform them into proper nouns. I think Johnny, Baby and a holiday romance that hopefully became lasting love when the cameras stopped rolling. 

I'm listening to the soundtrack as I type. The songs would not be my music on their own but against the backdrop of the film they become so much more. Every note places scenes from the film in my mind. Somehow it even manages to generate an energy in me. I actually feel a little bit invincible.  I'm not 51 tomorrow. I'm 20ish. Hopeful and vibrant. Patrick Swayze is still alive. He hasn't played the horrific character in Donnie Darko yet. He's Johnny. The dancing bad boy (but not really because he's actually nice). Johnny, the occasional eater of ju ju beans. What even are ju ju beans? No one knows. And it doesn't matter anyway. Johnny, the man with diamonds in his pockets and that isn't even a euphemism. Ah, the brilliant, silly dialogue. The perfect but not actually particularly dirty dancing. More sort of cheeky dancing. It's Johnny and Baby. The unlikely lovers that gave every young woman hope. The couple that inspired a million final dance scenes.  

Take me back please. 

Just a quick sidenote: Have you noticed that the song Overload has pretty worrying lyrics? Stop following her home to make sure that she gets there alright. You great big stalker person. 

Anyway. 

Dirty Dancing. 

If you haven't watched it and you're over 30. Why the heck not? Resolve this immediately. Actually watch it regardless of your age (but you know, be over 16 obviously). 

If you loved it, as I did, watch it again or just dive into the soundtrack. You'll no doubt find that time moves backwards then stands beautifully still. 

💙💙💙

Dragonflies and clouds

At the time of writing, the temperature in Puerto de la Cruz is a more palatable 27 degrees.  My appetite for extreme heat is not like my appetite for chocolate, which is worryingly massive. Fortunately, there are clouds here too. These offer a small heat offset. This troubles my partner.  He seeks maximum sunlight. I'm a shade seeker. Thus we find spaces to sit that offer a bit of both. 

The clouds here are strange.  Throughout the day they do ordinary cloud-like things but as evening approaches they spread out over the ocean in a near perfect line. It's as if someone used a ruler and chalk upon the sky. These curious clouds hover over and mirror the line of the sea. I have pondered at the cause of this cloudy oddness and consulted the delphic oracle that is Google. Unfortunately I'm largely non the wiser. Google hinted at trade winds, which sounds more economic that atmospheric. I may read a book on clouds. It'll be helpful bedtime reading. Ahem. 

I've also been surprised at the seemingly inquisitive nature of dragonflies. They zip over the chlorinated hotel pool as though they're expecting to find an afternoon snack. But on reflection there will be plenty of flies hanging around because people eat food at poolside. So these faux ponds are probably a vibrant buffet for dragonflies. Unless they eat dead skin. I'm not even going to Google this. I absolutely do not want to know. 

We intend to wander over to a vegan restaurant later. It will be pretty dreamy to choose food with impunity.  Yesterday I had a vegetarian pasta with an unexpected lump of chicken.  Kind of a bonus if you eat meat but tricky and a bit gross if you don't. 

The RGF xxx

Tropical remix

Since writing my previous blog post there has been a gentle sway towards welcomeness here in Puerto de la Cruz.  Thus, I have concluded that the Mars Uranus Algol conjuction was the root cause of the aforementioned disharmony. Granted, I have no scientific basis for my conclusions BUT one doesn't always need proof. Plus astrology is interesting and unless British tourists have suddenly stopped being annoying aboard (highly unlikely), it's the only discernable change. 

 

For my part, much like the rainbowesque stairs depicted above, I know happiness can occur in many places. Sometimes unexpectedly on a corner of the street somewhere between the beginning and the end of your journey, which is a metaphor for life really.  Or when Google maps sends you on a detour disguised as the best route to the Botanical Gardens - and despite the feelings of unease generated by the desolation on route - we spot several brightly coloured lizards doing lizardy things. 

In short, happy attracts happy.  Life is series of smiles really. There's shitshow too, obviously. But there is joyousness and kindness and painted stairways. 

Today has been good. 

Muchas gracias universe. 

The RGF xx