Life of Wry

This is one of the more striking graphics I’ve seen.

It’s the work of Barbara Galinska, a polish designer of lettering art. I’m in awe. Worth checking out her website and Facebook page.

[Note: starting the long slog back to blog catchup after being gone for 2+ weeks, plus settling back in, plus murder pre-trial… lots of backfills to come.. bear with.]

Spring is here (until tomorrow anyway). Took myself for a walk down by the creek. Boy, was that nice. Saw budding red buds and bursting magnolias… it was just so, so lovely.

Spoiler alert: Biden won the dem primary in Michigan! I know this because I’m actually writing this the day after the Michigan primary (b/c I’m doing a whole bunch of blog catchupping).

I texted Peter and Maya to wish them a happy voting day. Got this quick pic back from Maya right away… love these kids.

Today was both light and dark. We started the day by honoring David Breaux’s birthday.. by handing out free pieces of Boston Cream Pie — his favorite cake as a kid — at Compassion Corner. Afterward, we took the leftover cake to Paul’s Place, the new (ish) homeless shelter on H Street. The celebration brought out dozens of people who loved David and supported his life’s work of spreading compassion. Both the 90-minute gathering, and the time spent at Paul’s Place were affirming and loving.

After that… ugh. It was the first day of the preliminary hearing for the upcoming murder trial of Carlos, the kid who killed David, Karim, and attempted to kill Kimberly nearly a year ago. The trial proceedings are starting all over again, following the restoration of Carlos’ competency to stand trial…. sure I documented all that before. We are back on track after many months off, during which Carlos received the treatment he needed, following the psychotic episode that led to that horrific string of stabbings last April.

The hearing will take place over several days and is basically an evidentiary process to establish sufficient cause for proceeding with a trial. We will hear all kinds of grim details about the murders. It was nice to start the day on an uplifting note.

Here are some pics from the morning:

Here is something Maria posted today about the celebration… I thought it was lovely:

I didn’t notice, until someone pointed it out, that David and I look similar in this photo taken at his birthday celebration at the Compassion Bench. We share around half of our DNA—go figure.
I’ve been thinking about that, sharing DNA. For sure, it means having a certain number of physical traits in common. When you combine this with growing up in the same house, you have a potential nature-nurture fit. Still, we all know or have blood relatives who grew up with us who don’t share much in common in terms of personality, temperament, or worldviews.

David and I were soulmates. Often transcending words, we had a tacit understanding of each other. We were on similar paths for a while until I chose a relatively traditional route and he devoted his life to raising awareness of compassion, moving more deeply, as time went on, into his purpose.

Still, above all else these last few days and going forward, I’m understanding just how powerful his mission was and is, and honoring those parts of us that aligned so easily, ones I now treasure and know I can’t live without: compassion, an openness to deeper meanings and connections, and an unshakeable optimism.

So, you see, when David, in his deep silence, lived so loudly, so vibrantly, so consistently, that life—that light—can never die. One starts to notice that light everywhere, like in meeting someone in person for the first time, or having a beautiful encounter with a stranger, or giving out free dessert on a sunny day, or lying in the darkness of a spare room someone provided for you in their home. Or billions of other moments that represent a life, most getting lost to time and fragile memory.

It’s noticeable in the tens of thousands of people David interacted with, many of whom shared his story with others, making an orders-of-magnitude impact. It’s there in the stories that have been in the news and talked about since his death. It’s at the corner and it was in the courtroom, despite the tragic, difficult details we heard there.

The physical David is gone, but it’s impossible to kill compassion. All of that light, all of those connections—whether they’re DNA or otherwise—echo even more loudly.

~~

And here is a picture that Carrie Dyer gave to me at the celebration… a photo taken nine years ago at another birthday celebration for David at our house! I was so glad to have the photo, as I had not remembered the event.

I brought a lotta stuff home from Guatemala, as I mentioned yesterday. Chocolate is one of those many souvenirs. Chocolate is a distinctly Guatemalan product and a source of national pride. I just found this statement online:

Guatemala is considered to be the birth place of chocolate! History says the first chocolate bar was created by the Mayans before it became an industrialized good in Britain and other countries. The Mayans believed chocolate was a ‘food of the gods’.

Rufino arranged a demonstration for us of chocolate-making on one of the days we visited his town of San Antonio Palopo. Here’s Rufino and the fellow from the chocolate shop from whom I’d purchased [quite a bit of] chocolate a few days before when we first visited San Antonio Palopo. I remember asking him in particular how the milk chocolate was, since that’s what I’d be getting for Jim. Excellent, of course, was his response.

On this day, he holds up a nice cacao specimen and talks about the steps from cacao to the more familiar consumable chocolate.

Here, he’s grinding the beans…

If you look closely, you see the bars that are sold in the chocolate shop. You also see some varieties of chocolate liqueur I wish I’d purchased! I was worried about carrying it back safely, so forwent the glass bottles..

Today, Jim tried his souvenir Guatemalan milk chocolate!

He liked it! (No surprise.) Gorgeous, isn’t it?

Unpacked today.. and got to get a really good look at all that I had acquired. I did not plan to buy a lot. But when I saw how beautiful things were and how lovingly they were crafted, I changed my mind. It is very gratifying to watch an artist at work and then to take home something they’ve made. Or.. to see a country full of color and artistry and bring some of that home to enjoy.. or to give as gifts.. or consume! So… I did all of that.

I took a Nike duffle bag full of medical supplies down to Guatemala and returned with a Nike duffle bag full of treasures. Full to the brim. It was a perfect exchange, I think. Win win win.

Here’re my souvenirs & gifts (mostly so I can remember):

Tapestries and fabrics. There are table runners, placemats, dishtowels, coasters. Some of these were purchased from weavers whom we watched as they demonstrated their craft — either using a back loom or a standard loom. Some were purchased from sidewalk vendors, at least one from a woman who chased accompanied me down the street (I was ultimately glad to purchase from her). The 6″x8″ coasters were a gift from Lance.

A pouch (from a women’s weaving cooperative where we watched them dye cotten fabrics with natural products, like vegetables, seeds and bugs), and a handbag (handmade by — can’t quiet remember her name — the chef at our villa in Santa Catarina).

Juan’s wife Elena (whom I’ll talk more about later) embroidered huipils, among other things. Four of us went home with one of her masterpieces.

Then… consumables.. Guatemalan coffee and chocolates..

I took care of a lot of Christmas shopping for nieces and nephews (and Peter and Maya, and another unmentionable b/c he reads this)… dresses, shirts, beautiful homemade paper journals.. and a carved wooden coati I bought in Tikal b/c Sally was attacked by one.

Guatemala’s known for its traditional Worry Dolls …(according to legend, Guatemalan children tell their worries to the Worry Dolls, placing them under their pillow when they go to bed at night. By morning the dolls have gifted them with the wisdom and knowledge to eliminate their worries.)

But wait… there’s more… a pottery bowl (from a studio where we learned about the process of shaping and glazing these pieces), and a gorgeous jade necklace (the photo does not do it justice). Jadeite jade is sourced in Guatemala. “The first civilization to use jadeite jade were the Olmecs, Maya and Aztecs, and jade figured prominently in many myths and folktales.” More on that later. We learned all about jade/jadeite at the jade museum in Antigua. Most of us went home with at least some jade. Also in the photo on the right.. two beaded birds (I believe they’re supposed to be Quetzals) purchased from Magdelena (who I’ll talk about later), a mug that was given to each of us from one of the schools we visited, a goofy Guatemalan refrigerator magnet (don’t ask what possessed me) and some hotel soap (again.. ).

I’m dropping a few more photos in here that show how so much of this beautiful art will live on in our home…

And finally…. the beaded bird….

Sally and I landed.. I don’t know.. a bit before midnight. It was a smooth re-entry as we’d gone through customs in Dallas many hours earlier. Ron drew the short straw and was the pick up driver. (Lol… he volunteered, as Jim had driven us down to San Francisco to start the trip.) I slept most of the way to Davis, which made it seem like a short drive home.

Ron and Sally dropped me off at the end of the driveway at 1:30am. I slowly rolled my suitcase up to the front door, let myself in, and first thing I saw was this.

Love that Jim.

~~

Jim had actually heard Ron’s car as soon as it hit A Street. Ron drives a Dodge Challenger Hellcat, 6.2liter, Hemi engine…. which means nothing to me, but I can tell you it accelerates out of an airport like nobody’s business and makes quite a bit of noise as it vrooms down your street at 1:30 in the morning.

Which means: Jim knew I was home. And duly greeted me. A nice homecoming.

A couple of days ago, this squirrelly fellow was hanging out on our back deck, crawling all over the hammock stand — pulled in for the wet winter. He let me take a bunch of photos, then I suggested he go over and hang out with the Buddha… which, surprisingly he did!

They make a nice pair.

~~

In unrelated news:

As I write this, I’ve completed my packing, checked in for my flight, and filled out my customs form for entry to Guatemala. I’ve organized my documents and money and whatnot… and am pretty ready to go! Additionally — sometimes as a exercise in procrastination and sometimes in the process of packing — I cleaned out and/or organized 5 cabinets, a set of shelves, and most of a closet, netting a whole nuther huge bag of stuff that I took to Goodwill yesterday. I also cleaned out the refrigerator and tidied up an already uber tidy house. Just because. My calendar’s clear for the next two weeks and my “upon return” list is written out. So damn organized. Sally and Ron arrived this late afternoon; we just got back from dinner, and Ron has now left and is driving back up to Tuolumne. Sally’s doing her own fine-tuning of her bags and we’ll leave at about 7:30 in the morning for San Francisco. 

Adventures await.

I’m going to miss Jim.

So, lots of talk around our beautiful state lately about atmospheric rivers — storms that bring great gobs of rain, which bring floods and mud slides and all kinds of drama. LA is getting epic rainfall and they’re thinking this latest atmospheric river will land LA in the record books. They think that it’s SO MUCH RAIN it could be like the 5th most rainfall LA’s EVER gotten!

Well, know when #2 was? Check this out:

Sally sent me that screen shot of a story she was reading today and when she saw the list of other record rainfall dates, she noticed that #2 was on my birthday! These are two-day rainfall events and #2 started on January 25 and ended on January 26 — the day I was born, and the first full day of my life on earth. A storm for the ages.

My parents often recounted the story of my being born in a big storm. I believed it, but didn’t imagine it was anything beyond a typical southern California weather event — not much of an event at all. I wish mom and dad were around right now and they could tell me again what those days were like. I’d love to share with them the significance of that storm and its place in weather history.

The story went something like this: mom was having contractions and wanted my dad to take her to the hospital. My dad was sick, but they went, only to be told it was false labor and to come back later. They went home and shortly thereafter, her contractions got more intense and she wanted to go back. Dad wanted her to wait. He wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to go back out into that storm only to be sent home again. But she was sure … as sure as you can be about these things when it’s your first and you you know nothing about labor (I’m sure there were no childbirth classes back then, just Dr. Spock’s book). But mom was in a panic and so she called Mrs. Hesse (who lived across the street), and she took her. They had to drive to San Pedro, which I guess was the closest hospital. I claim my birthplace as Manhattan Beach on all my official paperwork because that’s where we lived, but I was technically born in San Pedro (hey… St. Peter!)

At some point, grandma Mary showed up at the hospital and she and Mrs. Hesse became the support team for mom’s first birth. Mom talks about smoking during labor and maybe that Mrs. Hesse and grandma Mary suggested that wasn’t such a good idea.

That’s about it for my birth story: second time was a charm, I was born in a storm, dad was not there, Mrs. Hesse and grandma coached her through it, she smoked, and I was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on. And that’s all I got.

It’s great knowing that storm was such a big and well-corroborated and documented part of the story!

I have these photos scanned and handy… they are close enough. She 26 years old here. Practically a kid.

(She sure got her figure back! Just in time to get pregnant again and have Jay 18 months after me.

Can’t remember the last time I watched the Grammys. I gave up years ago when I fell so far out of the music scene. But for some reason, I made a point to record tonight’s and just finished watching the whole thing, minus the commercials (the only way to fly!).

I loved it. So many artists and moments to love. Here are a few. (And yeah… I took pictures of my laptop screen with my iphone. Weirdo.

Cried at this: Tracy Chapman, who rarely performs in public anymore, singing Fast Car with a country music guy (whose name I forget, but he was lovely). She is such a class act. I just lost it, seeing her grey hair, hearing her voice, singing along (like the entire audience did), and gave her my own standing O.

Stevie Wonder did part of the In Memoriam tribute. He started it off with a duet of For Once In My Life with (the dead) Tony Bennett (an impressive editing feat), and really moving:

I also really loved hearing Annie Lennox sing Nothing Compares 2U in a tribute to Sinead O’Connor. Such a powerful voice.

ALSO in the In Memoriam tributes… Oprah honored Tina Turner… and then that Fantasia woman sang Proud Mary (fantastic):

I just couldn’t love this more… Brandi Carlile introducing and then singing Both Sides Now with Joni Mitchell, who’s 80 (jesus!) and has had to relearn how to walk, talk and sing after a brain aneurysm ten years ago.

I am always a Meryl Streep fan.. and loved seeing her with her daughter, who is married to a very successful music producer (I believe). Meryl and he also presented an award together, which was cute, as she is just as confused as all of us over the difference between best song, best record and best album.

Finally, I, like so many of my fellow non-pop music friends, are starting to realize Taylor Swift is a genuine phenom. I am quite ok admitting I’ve listened to some of her music and like it (mostly the acoustic, folky sounding stuff… in fact, I saw a song that she performed as an SNL host — not sure when — that I absolutely loved… Alanis Morrissette- sounding). Anyway… she won the biggest prize, which turns out is the Album of the Year award. And set a record in winning that award tonight. Good for her. On to the Super Bowl.

I also liked seeing Billy Joel, loved Trevor Noah’s hosting energy, was blown away by Billie Eilish (and her sweet brother), was sad to see what’s happened to Celine Dion (even though she’s not someone I’ve gotten to know over all these years), and learned who some of these other folks are whom I’ve sort of heard about (mostly on pop music questions at pub quiz). So, all in all, a great night of music. Yay.