Flowing Like a River…

time, that is.  For some of us, the water flowing past our eyes is calm, natural, sweet.  For others, it’s a reminder that we’ll never see that exact same reflection again – never again, the light shining on a particular peak on the water’s surface, never the dip, never the changing vision of perfection.  And, we won’t, because the water flows toward the ocean without our intervention, and in spite of it.  We’ll see a faint reminder, though, every time we look into the River…and when we’re allowed…a vivid memory.  Or, in our case, an imagined one, or the many possibilities.  It’s a tiresome, yet inevitable trip into the waters of the Earth.

Water will never be the same to me.  I see it everywhere – whether dripping from a faucet, in a bathtub full of bubbles, on the shoreline, standing still at negative tide, or from the banks of the Petaluma River.  Oddly, I find water calming, in all its various states – except ice. 

Water, frozen, is nothing more than a tool to cool my too-hot coffee, or my room-temperature Diet Coke.  Frozen is a state I can’t associate with the life flow of water.  Chemistry was never my strength, but has always been my ally.  Lately, chemistry has been a key component of our mystery, so also my adversary. 

I talk in riddles sometimes, and tonight is no exception.  Riddles, like chemistry, can play key roles in mysteries.  Owen liked riddles.  He liked chemistry (physical, environmental, emotional, and cosmic).  And, he loved mysteries.  God, he should be having the time of his life with this one – oh, but…

who knew the sunset could arrive so early, the moon take its place in the indigo evening, and the stars emerge so brightly in the night sky – all replacing the changing vision of perfection in the water’s flow?

Song for the night: Time, The Alan Parsons Project (wow, going back a ways now…water seldom flows backwards, but when it does, it’s because someone or something has built a dam in its path, and the backwash can appear violent…someone has built a dam in our path…and our shovels were buried deep beneath it)

http://youtube.com/watch?v=nvwrSdMY7dQ&feature=related

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~ by Linda on March 20, 2008.

4 Responses to “Flowing Like a River…”

  1. Linda —

    I recently found your blog “by accident” when I saw that someone had found my blog by searching the tag “grief.” (I wrote a letter to my dying grandmother and tagged it with that) At any rate, I wanted to let you know how much I enjoy your blog…you are a wonderful writer, although it is definitely unfortunate that the need and desire to create the blog resulted from such tragedy. I would like to add you to my blogroll, and just wondered if that was okay. My blog is not about loss, but I would like to help you spread your message and, again, I feel like you are a very talented writer. Please let me know.

    Best
    Rose

  2. Talking in riddles…yes, this makes sense to me. Writing on-line is so public and yet what you are sharing is so intensely personal. Sometimes riddles and roundabouts are all that one can manage, I’m sure. I enjoy puzzling through — even if I don’t understand it all. I hear the emotion, though, and am left with impressions. Much like a good poem that one can unpack endlessly, a prose riddle is interesting as well.

    Take care, my friend!

  3. What a beautiful video and song…makes me cry good tears. I love this blog.

  4. There was a cheesy film I saw once (I can’t remember which one) where a father was teaching his son about death.

    He poured some water into a lake, or maybe a river, and asked his son where the water was. The boy said that the water had gone.

    The father told him that it was still there, just that it was now a part of the pond (or the river). It had not disappeared, but now formed part of the greater whole.

    He told his son that this was how it was with life. And I don’t know why, but I’ve never forgotten that analogy.

    The same thought features in the U2 song One Tree Hill, written about a Maori funeral for their crew member, Greg Carroll.

    … scars carved into stone on the face of Earth.

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