& keep you wild

these are the dreams we should be having.

i thought i saw my grandmother at the hospital.  i was leaving my GI appointment and saw her coming down the hall.  not her, i know, but a woman who looked just like her— short linen pants, gray wool cardigan, slight stoop, even the wig looked the same. her nurse was carrying her case folder which had my grandmother’s doctor’s name on the front in block letters. my heart stopped.  and then i had to keep walking.

we spent so much time together, not only in life but in that hospital.  her taking me to appointments, me taking her to appointments, and later, rushing to the emergency room, and later, hanging out in her hospital room and walking the halls, and last, saying goodbye to her doctors as she left the hospital for the last time, homebound to start hospice.

i loved her. i miss her.  i never knew how much she really inspired me— not inspired in that cutesy general old person way, but literally inspired, how her bravery and badassery and calm and determination about her stomach problems and procedures just said to me t, get it together— until the last few months of her life.  there was me, with all my anxieties and pains and heavy leaning on my support system and then there was her, one of the first americans ever to get the whipple surgery, taking her meds, doing her preps by herself, exercising, leaving the house every day, making it look easy enough.  watching her do it all— in a condition much worse than mine— was basically the only mirror i needed.  i miss that mirror, but i was so lucky to have it.  

one of my favorite seats on earth

one of my favorite seats on earth

Stylist Spends Every Sunday Giving Haircuts to the Homeless

i think this article is amazing and heartbreaking.  what a fantastic way to directly help and care for someone in need without even having/giving money.  it makes me wish i had a skill like that i could contribute. maybe i do and i’ve just not thought about it enough. 

summer

Today you find yourself guilty
as the rim you split
an egg against
You press charges
You spell out your name
like the letters are medals
for good conduct in a bad war
The night moves in with you
into your room
until even your sleep
is not your own
Through the window
the grass tells you
to give up
and you are trying
but on the other hand
things keep you:
the moon, the cars, cars
You undress yourself
more deeply down
like this is the way
to get to the future
You let the darkness
medically examine you
So much can’t be
put back together
To burn the house down
to burn the house up
It’s the same problem
in any direction
You’re matter
You turn on the light
- Heather Christle

thanks body, i’m so glad you were normal while i was sitting at my desk all day doing nothing and then turned into a total FREAK once i got home and had to clean the house and pack for a trip

memorial

To the young and able man who lets his death come in
with veils in his face that say you can come in and claim
a place among us. To the young man who closes his eyes
to the parting of clouds and lets what is beyond come in.
To the young man whose body is still warm, that weightless
being with halos, whose footsteps we will never fill. To the endless
clock machine in the god body of the young man who
closes his eyes as the light sweeps him to eternity. To the blessed
beating of his heart when we listen to our closed palms.
To the complex latticework of smiles in his photographs
every two seconds you pick him up and back. God body love.
Good-bye. To the young man whose laughter is now a memorial among us,
as we sit under tents, listen to our mothers and sisters cry,
shed our own not-so-private god tears love, shelter under
the night that claimed him. To him and beyond and the endless
love through which God privately loves him.
- Clifton Gachagua

fairdig:

When someone who entertained you dies, it’s sad. And when they die not of old age, but something like a drug overdose or a suicide, it’s tragic. And then you are reminded of everyone you have ever known who died in that way. And everyone you have ever known who died in other tragic ways. And then you mourn them all, all over again.

yeah. i didn’t want to lose him at 17, i didn’t want to lose him at 63, i didn’t want this week to make me 16 again in that living room losing him over and over and over

(Source: brodiehubbard)

This cereal box really pissed me off this morning. I didn’t buy Cheerios so that I could become less ‘myself,’ or so any other woman could become less of herself, I just bought it to eat breakfast. I really connect with the idea that fitness is about becoming MORE (stronger, powerful, confident) rather than raging against yourself to whittle your unacceptably flabby body down into LESS. My entire self doesn’t = my body and I don’t need a cereal to tell women, yet again, to slim down and take up less space in this world. Apparently the point of whole grains isn’t to nourish your body or to make you strong, it’s just to make women smaller, and smaller, and smaller.

This cereal box really pissed me off this morning. I didn’t buy Cheerios so that I could become less ‘myself,’ or so any other woman could become less of herself, I just bought it to eat breakfast. I really connect with the idea that fitness is about becoming MORE (stronger, powerful, confident) rather than raging against yourself to whittle your unacceptably flabby body down into LESS. My entire self doesn’t = my body and I don’t need a cereal to tell women, yet again, to slim down and take up less space in this world. Apparently the point of whole grains isn’t to nourish your body or to make you strong, it’s just to make women smaller, and smaller, and smaller.

belief in magic

[…]

You know what it feels like to hold
a burning piece of paper, maybe even
trying to read it as the flames get close
to your fingers until all you’re holding
is a curl of ash by its white ear tip
yet the words still hover in the air?
That’s how I feel now.
- Dean Young (excerpt)