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Angry, Part Deux. Not So Much Anymore

Remember how I was angry about being railroaded by an axe grinding promoter/board member? I wrote the other promoter a note saying how joyous I’d be in playing there again, telling them that I understood that they were bandying my name about for the next season. They wrote my agent back saying that their board had an “internal misunderstanding” and can’t wait to have me their next season. Flies. Honey. I said yes to the gig.


Remember how angry I was at God for taking my neighbor? Well, I was jogging by that house the other day, and her husband was outside, clipping old growth from the trellis about which I had written “the trellis begging for budding roses”. David stopped, came down off of the ladder, and I started to talk to him with the strangest opening:

“Thank you”

Really? This guy with 2 young kids and now suddenly no wife life partner where there was one has taking a moment to talk to me and I start by saying, “thank you”? He did not, however, show even an inkling of being taken aback. He spoke of how strange it was to be on the side of loss as he is currently. He talked about how the boys are faring - one mourns quite openly, the other more quietly with a bit more acting out, but both seems to be in stride as best as he can tell. He had that look in his eyes, that look of never-ending tears, his eyes were just wet. Just wet. A little red, but just...wet. He was amazed by the outpouring of support, but not surprised, as he explained that Shira was like a flypaper magnet vortex type of woman, and the world was drawn to her. His eyes stayed wet. My dogs schnozzle him at his hips and knees as they should, as I know these dogs are comfort giving pros, life normalizers, even for a minute, and readily do so without being asked. And he talked very simply for a moment about Shira’s journey the best he could, saying that she seemed to come in on a shaft of light, and definitely left on one, and really, it was all ok. I mentioned the trellis, and he said he was “trimming away the old, making way for the new”. Sure, I make it sound like some cold act thing as read, but he was just telling the truth about tomorrow. I commented, “We’re all doing that, aren’t we?”. We both had a good laugh on that.

He remarked on my thanking him, commenting that it was the perfect thing really to say, as her being and passing was truly a gift that he was given to pass on. Hey, it wasn’t like I was some sort of shaman know-it-all in thanking him. I told him that his and her peaceful way of being is a bit of a lesson for me, and that I wished him a mess of peace.

But I noticed that he had been facing the sun as we talked, and I wondered to myself if maybe that’s why his eyes were still teary, and that maybe I was looking for too much drama, too much wonder in this meeting with this man. Maybe. All the warmth and real fellowship and peace coming from this man...well, it didn’t make me any less pissed or in any more wonder at God’s plans or existence. But, like he said, she did come from and go back into light. And I believe *him*. Based on that, I’d hope I would readily look towards the sun for her, forever, and tear up too.