Paintings and Hacky Sacks

Sorry I never told you all I wanted to say…well, I hope I said as much as we had time for in our short lives together, Owen.  I know you were not a big Mariah Carey fan, but you thought she had an incredible voice.  And, there was a time when Boyz II Men did some cuts you thought were cool.  You were young then, and your musical tastes changed over time.  They always do – they did for us…your elders, and your peers.

Dave and I hung paintings tonight after we arrived home from his mom’s house.  I was so glad to walk into our house after two weeks away, and see your things – your drawings, photos of you and the family, your hacky sacks, and so much more. 

The paintings we hung are those I brought back from Lea’s open studio:  88 Days on Mercury and Night Rain.  We also hung Jacob’s Ladder, which I had taken north with me, and to which Lea added a message to you on my last day in her studio, after Karma found one of your dragonfly cutouts on the floor beneath the beverage table.  None of us could imagine how the cutout flew from inside the tiny jack-o-lantern on the shelf, to the floor beneath the table.  Again, we honored your messages to us. 

Lea affixed the little violet dragonfly to the canvas, wrote her message to you with a Sharpie…we cried, and packed the three paintings in the back of my rental car for the trip to Dave’s mom’s house.  Once I arrived, I parked the car in the garage for safety, and spent the last four days working with him on the plans for the sale of the house, and packing Barbara’s personal belongings for her many descendants. 

You would have been bored out of your mind, if you had been a part of this process, as this was the stuff that seemed so insignificant to you.  Some of us find this stuff necessary, the keeping of family history and such.  I felt intimately, the lack of your having descendants, as you wanted them so.  You thought your world perspective would change dramatically if you had kids of your own. 

Instead, in this process, you were a constant source of feeling, where we were unable to do much feeling on behalf of Barbara in her so very recent passing.  Unable, only because we were still in the numb phase of her death.  But, your passing continued to become more apparent, because it was so different, so unexpected.  You, being 20, and Barbara, being 77…my god, light years apart in your personal experiences, and galaxies apart in our love of you both in our lives.

The first things I did when we arrived home this afternoon, were light candles, feed the cats, and toss your hacky sacks.  I always toss your hacky sacks, but drop them repeatedly.  I know you would laugh at my lack of coordination, in spite of the fact that I’ve always felt acutely coordinated.  Hacky sacking is something unlike my trained coordination, though.  I can still turn a ballet spin (mostly in my dreams, mind you), but cannot easily keep the tiny ball in the air.  You not only kept the hacky sack in the air, but did it with artistic physical movements, and amazing vocals.

 “I know you’re shining down on me from heaven, like so many friends along the way…”

Song for the night: One Sweet Day, Mariah Carey with Boyz II Men




~ by Linda on October 13, 2007.

One Response to “Paintings and Hacky Sacks”

  1. Addendum to what Mom said:
    Howard (up here in Bellingham) made a beautiful speech about how you could “hack” like nobodies business. He talked about how you would stretch your long leg when everybody thought the thing was gone and kick it back into play before they could catch up. Amazing, Dude! I like how you always started by yourself and ended up with a following of silent players that just walked up and took your lead. Kinda like Jonathon Livingston Seagull, you were.
    Lea Kel

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