Monday, September 13, 2010

Sitting. Moving.

Originally uploaded by

Sitting here at Peets Coffee among the living. I didn't want to spend my day lost in the sheets and blankets. They boys were both very sweet this morning, being gentle with me.

I'm sitting, reading the sweet messages, and feeling supported. I have so many blessings, and don't ever want to take that for granted.

On a beautiful sunny morning, this is where Michael would want to be. Drinking our morning coffee had become such a wonderful ritual, and it always started our day off well. It's funny how drinking coffee became something we did together. Although I would curse if I accidentally picked up his cup, which was loaded with unnecessary sugar!

My morning started before the sun arrived. Candles were lit around Michael's urn, his favorite music played, and my pillow encased in Michael's quilted clothing was safe in my arms.

I sat. I cried, then reread a poem sent to me last night.

I am but waiting for you,
for an interval.
Somewhere very near.
Just around the corner.

Once I found the calm within, my meditation began. At first there was complete silence, and the sky was dark. At times my eyes were closed, and at times tears rolled down. At times my eyes would open, and his urn would come into focus. I looked at it with fondness and love. I then heard the sound of birds, and realized the sun had come up. Looking out my window I saw that the world around me was waking up. Soon I would go down to awaken the boys for school. Soon this morning luxury would come to an end, as a parent doesn't get the day off. I reminded the boys of the day's importance, which of course they were both aware of. I received their hugs and kisses, then received the wet kisses from Ranger and Carelli. I will receive Arianne's when she arrives tonight to make dinner.

I am a fortunate man. I am loved, and I have the good fortune to have many people in my life that I can love in return.

I am still hurting, and holding it in as I write, as not to scare the morning customers at Peets. The day is completely my own at this point. I have no agenda. I have a pocket full of Michael's ashes, so where ever I go, so does he. The places we will go today are of no real significance, as the important part of our journey together has already played out.

I call your name in great sorrow.
I call your name in deep sorrow
I'll call your name till I die.
My beloved

Today is for me, and I feel free to do, or not do, anything I want.

Time to keep moving.


  1. i just checked the weather for you and it seems you are moving out in a beautiful day. i hope you are breathing deeply and feeling the air in your lungs. i hope you are looking up at the gulls that pass overhead. maybe you will go to a garden place to see the plants and blooms that soothe. maybe you will go to the beach where the eternal waters that move will be able to calm you, inspire you, and make you feel the infinite that is ours. maybe a shell or a small stone will be shaped like a heart or a star so that you feel a hint of something powerful.

    whatever you choose to do, you are in my thoughts. peace.

  2. i LOVE that poem. how fitting.

    sending love and peace today and always,

  3. thinking of you and your family today, holding you close to my heart

  4. As this day draws to a close, I hope it was filled with peaceful memories and not just sorrow. Michael is always near--just on the other side of "the door" in the "other room." One day we will walk through that door and be reunited with our love.

  5. You've been in my thoughts and prayers today, Dan.

  6. walking by your side and holding you close in my thoughts - Dan. be gentle with yourself - many prayers flying across the miles between. Suzann

  7. I'm glad you took Michael along for the day. Did you walk down by the water?

    I also thought it was lovely that you had your coffee ritual.

    I'd like to share something that struck me just after Cliff's first anniversary ... I thought to myself, "well ... I've done a year and a day ... and that means I can do another year and a day". A simple thought but it helped me at the time.

    I love you Dan and am so relieved the day is over for you.