Just Remembered...

Little sweetheart, remember I was telling you about your childhood friend Liz who has been in touch and sent me those wonderful drawings with stories about you from primary school? Well, I was just thinking about a story from the same era, when you were a little girl, that your mom told me.

She said one day your elementary class went on a school trip to a farm and that you were very excited to meet and see all the animals. But when you came home you were a little miffed about the pigs.

Apparently, when you fed them they rather boisterously came charging and proceeded to gobble up everything in sight with great speed. "Well", you said, with some distaste, "I can certainly see why they call them pigs!".

I love this story to the point of madness. Honestly, has there ever been anyone remotely like you? I think not! God, how I love you!

Thinking of you on this hot June night with affection and gratitude. And love forever.

First and Last (for now)

Little sweetheart, I was finally able to get back to that nice candlelight meditation service I've told you about. It's on Wednesday nights and I was going to go on my birthday but, of course, I was in the hospital. That was two months ago.

It had been ages and because they take July - September off, this was going to be the last one until the first week in October. I'm glad I went! It's about as far as I've walked since the accident - about 60 blocks round trip. It was really good to see some of the folks there, they're very nice, and to say quiet prayers and sing the chant-like devotional songs and to come forward to light a candle for you and to sit in the silence and the near dark during the centerpiece meditation of the service. Some sweet little birds were singing outside and if I hadn't already, I was quite certain then that you were near.

Part of the service includes readings, both secular and sacred. There's often a poem. They asked me to read Wednesday night's. It was called "Popovers" - again bringing you leaping to mind, as your special Summer Popovers recipe is right on the front of our fridge at home. It's a beautiful poem about love and dear ones and struggles and our desire to hold on to the precious things and... food! It's by Pam McAllister and is here:

What luxury, on this visit,
to hear rain falling in the woods,
then awaken to popovers,
like so many golden suns, spilling over
a birch-wood basket.
Our talk, too, spilling over and golden,
rises from a night of dreams and a universe
of books and memories, new ideas and old connections.
Here! we say, offering up a page of promise.
Listen! the morning air is filled with our reflections
as colorful and textured as the plate we pass
laden with melon wedges and strawberries
and unbelievable raspberries. We pose for pictures,
yearning to hold on to this moment, this abundance.
Outside, the air shimmers
and the only thing we know for sure
is that there are trials ahead for each of us
and for our world, our delicate, precious planet.
But at this table we have held each other’s hands,
offered thanks for all of creation,
and eaten our golden popovers
with butter and jam.

At the end, they welcomed me back and a few people came up to say hi. More than one, knowing that I had briefly left this life, said they were certain it was you, little sweetheart, who wanted me to finish just a few more things here before I join you.

I pray with all my heart to do as you would have me, to make you proud and, when the time is the time, to fly to your side again and forever. I'm filled with gratitude and love tonight, little sweetheart. Thank you. With all my love forever. 

Be True

Little sweetheart, I'm focusing on doing my best to get healthy and get back to our work and I think I really haven't quite yet taken in all that's happened, all that's happened to me, in these last weeks. Maybe it's too much to process just yet and maybe, as sometimes is the case in these situations, it's far more palpable to those closest to us than it is to ourselves, because they witnessed it and even though it happened to us, we were unconscious for all or parts of the events and may only have scattered memory of it all.

I suppose the enormity of it will eventually trigger my emotions and maybe I should be bracing myself for that. I'm only now really hearing about the second event, only now understanding that I left this life for over ten minutes when my heart stopped. What I do remember is that my mind was working, that I was still trying to communicate almost telepathically with those around me, earthbound, and that in those moments I felt as if they were understanding and responding.

One of the things that most bothered me after I was conscious was that I didn't simply soar to your side, but soon, and even now, I think that it wasn't quite time for that yet, that you yourself may well have had a hand in shepherding me back, keeping me in my earthly orbit for a bit longer, knowing better than I do myself that there are things I'm meant to complete here first.

I pray, little sweetheart, to know them and to dedicate myself ever more fervently to honor you and live up to the shining example of your loving kindness and character. In a word, (or two) to Be True.

And in the phrase that you shared with me and that, even after your tragic passing, your mom invoked and reminded me - because you and the great gift of your love are eternal and ever always present - don't waste the miracle.

I must be mindful, more than ever. I love you with all my heart and soul. In another of your oft repeated vows to me - Always.

With love forever.

Friends New and Old

Little sweetheart, while I was in the hospital, I got an email from an old friend of yours who went to primary school with you. She remembered you so fondly from childhood and wondered what you were up to, and just about the time of my accident, went looking for news of you online. She didn't know about the tragic events of 2011 and that you had passed on, my angel. But she found this page and left a comment and she found the band and wrote us at that email.

We've been in touch a bit since then and she shared some her memories - beautiful, funny, intensely moving - of you and your shared childhood at The Waldorf School. She remembered your wonderful parents, too, of course, and when I mentioned all this to them, they remembered her too.

Her name is Liz Mihalov and after writing me some incredibly beautiful accounts of your times together she drew some more - a kind of series of Summer cartoons, in a way - and sent them to me in the mail. The originals, no less. It was very very kind.

I scanned them all so that I could share them with your folks and also so Liz herself would have copies and she said it was okay for me to post one or two of then here.

So, here's one of my favorites now.

I'm so filled with love for you, my little sweetheart, and so very grateful for the kindness of new and old friends. With all my love forever.

Words and Music

One of the things I meant to post on April 25 - my birthday and the anniversary of your memorial - was this track from the new album Sometimes in Dreams.

It obviously is inspired by what I wrote and spoke for you that day in 2011. It includes much of what I said that night and goes deeper with new writing and thoughts and musical underscoring, as has become the way of us. I love you my angel.

I have a thousand thousand things to say...

The Choral Text Passage 


(from Bipolar Explorer's double-album, Sometimes in Dreams - c/p Serafin-Wells, Thirteen November Music ASCAP and Slugg Records)

Continued...

Little sweetheart, these last eight weeks have been hard. It's exactly eight weeks ago today that, a day before my birthday, I was hit by a car. There have been so many struggles and challenges in the days and weeks since then and I guess you could even say that for not a little while I was almost if not actually dead, because my heart stopped for 10 minutes.

But I'm still here, struggling a bit but grateful, especially to be home with the love of your wonderful parents - and the earthly angel, Sylvia, who very much saved my life along with your dad who was on the phone with her when I collapsed - grateful to be home with your pictures and things around me, grateful for you and your mom and dad and dear Sylvia.

And I want, as best I can, to resume these writings and our music and all our projects dedicated to love and your memory and example, as well as new blessings that I know you have visited upon me, upon us, with celestial guidance.

I may begin with a few things that I had already written down and meant to say and post just before the events and I'll continue as best I can while keeping up my recovery.

I love you with all my heart and soul. 

Works in Progress

Little sweetheart, I'm home but still struggling a bit with my recovery. I'm sad to not be writing more but will endeavor to do so as my health improves. At a follow up appointment the other day, the doctor told me that during the incident my heart stopped for ten minutes. It's something of a miracle that I am still here. As you are a miracle yourself and my earthly angels- your mom and our dear dear new one, the wonderful Sylvia - are as well. I've been listening to our cover of the traditional Scottish folk song, "Wild Mountain Thyme", which we re-titled from its chorus,"We'll All Go Together". I know that is true and that we will all be there one day, but I also know you and these earthly beloveds have need for me here just now. And I will do my best to get better and with love and kindness do what is set forth for me. With love forever and to be continued....