This weekend was really good. We spent the time in honor of a good life and a good death, and it was comforting. Not all death is traumatic. Orlie seemed to move out of his life with wit and humility, much in the way he lived it.
There were a lot of simple, aesthetic pleasures this trip: the blur of hummingbirds fighting for their moment on the feeders, petting wild horses who didn't know what to do with a carrot, a old abandoned farmhouse that now houses crows, a sky filled with gray and ominous clouds puffing in fits and starts across the vast horizon (and never a drop of rain), sunflowers dappling country lanes stretching as far as the eye could see, an ominous moon creeping up over hills in night sky like it was auditioning for a vampire movie.
After a memorial wake at David's parents' house on Friday night, we drove to the tiny town of Antonito, Colorado to bury some of Orlie's effects next to his mother's grave. Roots. I got to see some of David's (very) extended family, and eat posole and beans on a relative's farm. We found that hubby has a drop of Apache blood in there somewhere. Not sure on the Sephardic front. David's brother James came with his new love Sarah, and she seems to be his soul's compliment. We agreed amongst ourselves that we are the luckiest girls on the planet.
A burial, and then a meeting of a new life. Christina's baby Hannah is beautiful. Another link in the chain. We had a gorgeous brunch (Frontier rolls!) at my brother's house, and I got to jump in a bounce castle with my niece and nephews. I had an early birthday present of lovely necklace and artwork from Isabella, who at age 6 is in her faery period and is now painting on canvases. Nathaniel, at age 4, came out with the best insult he could think of for his sister, "You Husky Gentleman!"
I admit that New Mexico has an almost magical quality of light. Everything is clear, sharp, focused. We returned to the golden haze that is a California sunset and I am reminded of an aging starlet photographed through a soft filter. She still knows how to show herself off.
It sounds wonderfully bittersweet. Lisa | 08.23.05 - 3:17 pm | #
So pretty. ashley | 08.23.05 - 4:32 pm | #
Nice stuff. I think we may have seen the same moon, my friend. It was the most ridiculously cliched and haunting moon I have ever seen. I am glad that you got both ends of the spectrum of life. Very healing. I dig the Apache blood drop, too. tifanie | 08.23.05 - 8:16 pm | #
Dear Adriana, You left too soon. Sunday evening brought powerful dark clouds that teased us for 2-3 hours, and when we had chosen to not answer they cry of wolf and picnic outside, the rains fell in huge droplets to cleanse the air, renew the earth, and fill our lungs with the fragrance that only God could make. It was a wonderful ending to the weekend. Please, may I add myself to the list of truly blessed and lucky girls on the planet. Run your toes through the sand and think of us because I'm afraid of what else might be in the sand at my place. Prairie Momma | 08.23.05 - 10:08 pm | #
Beautiful post. I needed this.
Thank You. Shawn Jackson | 08.24.05 - 4:32 am | #
A truly poetic post! The weekend wouldn't have been the same without having our boys & girls here to help with the transition. And, it was very much a bittersweet time. Now, on to a new chapter in our lives, whatever it may bring. Ma | 08.24.05 - 7:07 am | #