Wednesday, April 29, 2009

It's been seven years since my baby brother died on the same day as one of my best friends from college

This is what I said at his funeral:
I love my brother Tim as I know may of you did. He was a passionate, creative, giving person. I never thought I would have to say goodbye to him so soon. He helped me to learn something very important though. When we were growing up we learned a lot from our parents about expression and words and work and life and laughter and art and literature. But unfortunately I feel we were only really taught one way to deal with the problems and suffering, one expression or feeling to capture the myriad and range of emotions available. That reaction was anger. When the anger became too much we all learned to numb ourselves from pain in one way or another.
Over the years I have struggled against the numbness I felt. There were times when it was much easier to shut myself off from the pain or discomfort some of my brother’s choices left me with. He could be so generous and so giving and then become so overwhelmed by life he was just not there. I felt my heart hardening against whatever I anticipated the future might hold for him. Then recently, in the last year and a half, I began to discover that there were other options. I did not have to feel just anger or nothing. My relationship with Tim in these last 18 months grew to a new level. I let myself love him fully for everything he is and could be. I accepted him and felt protective of him in a way I never had before.
He too loved and felt passionately about life. The last time I saw him he seemed so happy. We had something in common. We had both found a person we could love and let love us and to share our lives with. He had just spent two weeks snorkeling in Puerto Rico with Lauren and he was so in love. He kept saying to me “Who would have thought?” and I had to agree. Who would have thought that the two of us could be so lucky? He really lived.
I want to read something he wrote:
“Down through the depths of inner sanctuary, caught in the vortex of immobile sleep, I dreamt of a place where all men go. I am from that place and I find it unworthy. I am Narmidian, the sailor. I have been around the world in the course of several minutes. With this there seems nothing to hide from, no demons, hells, no fears that creep out in the middle of the night, and in a sense that is the most fearful existence of all. For what is the true purpose of living except to enjoy the moment, and how to enjoy the moment without ruining the future, and if so what other alternative is there? I can see none, for all mysteries fade before the utter truth of simple boring life and no one who desires fantasy wants simple life.”
Because of Tim and Matt and Suzy, I love children. We had some wonderful times together as children. He also had a amazing connection to my daughter Sachi from the time she was born. They seemed to recognize each other from a long time ago. My stories about him and my brother and sister have become part of the fabric of my teaching style, my way of relating to children, my life and I want to say thank you to him for that.
When we were kids there was a huge snowstorm in New York one winter. The schools were closed and Matt and Tim and I went to the park together. Matthew, always the adventurous one, convinced us to jump from the high brick wall separating the different levels of Riverside Park. He said the snow was so deep it would catch us. We sat on the wall and looked down and it seemed much too far. Tears started to run down Tim’s face. Matt said let’s jump and he did landing in a roll and laughing. By then Tim was really crying. I knew I had to jump next or I would lose my nerve. My foot got caught in a vine and I fell head first. Still I landed okay although much harder than I had expected. From down below we egged Tim on, “JUMP! JUMP!” we shouted over his wails. Trembling and sobbing he finally did. And then we all laughed together. Years later I realized that he was the bravest one of all of us because real bravery is to do what you are afraid to do.
I will miss his hugs more than anything. He had a way of holding me that made me feel like I was home. I know I will see him again and I look forward to it.

And the poem from Sachi:
I wanted to write something to say everything I felt.
But nothing sounded right.
Writing this now, I can see no words to describe you.
There are no words, only images in my mind.
Swirls of brilliant color, crazy painted graffiti, moving faster and faster
Powerful images, rushing through walls that can’t take the blows fast enough.
You were magical, fierce, art flowing over the heads of all who knew you
Zooming down New York City streets
Enveloping me in the swirling arms of a bear hug
Melting, pouring, endless movement.
You lived fast, never ceasing to amaze me.
Creativity poured out of you like paint,
Flowing fast and drying onto sidewalks
Oozing out onto the feet of everyone who saw.
Affecting the lives of so many.
And yet, so few of us got to say what we really wanted to say.
You were too quick for us, passing each of us in a flash
One single moment of brilliance
If you don’t say it now, you might never get to.
Well, I didn’t get to say it one last time, but I’ll say it now anyway.
I love you.

To sleep, perchance to dream

I am too afraid of the prospect of taking a medical leave from work. I am afraid I will not get my job back. I am afraid they are only offering it so I never come back. I am afraid that I will never have a regular salary and health insurance again. I am afraid I will miss it. I am afraid I will become even more insignificant than I am now.

My sister says, "Sleep! Jill Bolte Taylor says the brain needs sleep to recover." I am more creative with rest and so if I sleep, I can dream and the possibilities could break through into this world. On the other hand as my title infers, the sleep could bring no relief and the dreams could penetrate the respite with more anxiety of the loss and change.

On a totally unrelated topic, check out my handsome husband back when he was a youngster in his twenties:

Saturday, April 18, 2009

{∞} Touchless Bouyant Infinite hug

My blog reading includes:

My Tough Boy Initiative

She just describes my feelings so well at times so I sent her my new TBI acronym.

Friday, April 17, 2009

The opportunity to write the word


link to article about the neuroscience behind it

I always forget what it means. Maybe it's the shady part.

Sometimes when you lose....

...something, you do not realize it is missing until you need it.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

What a world! What a world!

I'm melting.

Walking home from conferences where most parents are happy to hear they have a great kid but some are fixated on HONORS MATH.

I stop at the supermarket and hear a father tell his much taller teen-aged son that he is selfish for choosing a $5 box of Fruity Pebbles not on sale, as the box glides by ostentatiously next to generic white bread, generic hot dogs, generic OJ, and generic cheese.

I feel unbearable sorrow. Yes, we all want to do a good job, to be liked, to not be selfish.

Inevitably, some of us fail.

Sunday, April 12, 2009