Posts Tagged With: Mothers

Day 2730: Staring at the Sun

Staring at the Sun: Overcoming the Terror of Death is a book I’ve stared at many times.

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Yesterday, when I was staring at my son in the midday sun …

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… I got the very sad, unexpected, and darkening news that my long-time friend Eleanor had passed away.

Eleanor, who was described in an online memorial as “sunshine, determination, kindness, humor, a keen mind and a really great friend” brought the sun into my life for over 45 years.  Here’s a portion of her obituary:

Eleanor was a caring and giving person, made up of pure love and light, and left nothing but warmth and care with everyone who knew her. She had a contagious smile and strong will. She was the sun on a dark day, the cool breeze on a hot day. The twinkle in her eyes could warm the darkest, most inner part of anyone’s soul. We now have another angel on our side to help us fight for peace, which is what she always wanted. May her spirit continue to guide us through this life, and always remind us to live and lead with our heart. There will be a private ceremony. To make donations in Eleanor’s honor please consider Project Bread, http://www.projectbread.org/, the Kestrel Land Trust https://www.kestreltrust.org/, or the Equal Justice Institute https://eji.org/.

Eleanor last commented on this blog on Mother’s Day:

Eleanor
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY ANN!
And this mother thanks you for all your posts over the years – what I look forward to each day to amuse me, inspire me, make me ponder, and just enjoy.
Peace and love to you

Eleanor was a caring and loving friend who gave me advice, cards, tickets to wonderful events,  rides to appointments when I was dealing with health issues,  and — during rain and shine —  her fabulous company (described here, here, herehere, here, here, here, here, and here,). We talked about cats, haircuts, food, work, politics, children, husbands, other people, social justice, the present, the past, the future, love, and everything else under the sun.

Whenever I asked her if I could put her picture in my blog, she’d say, “Some day.  Not yet.” I can picture the sunshine of her kind, curious, and loving face, right now.

Eleanor gave me these avocado socks …

… and I believe that the last time I saw her we had avocado toast, dining under the sun at a cafe near the shore.  There was such synchronicity and connection between us, we often finished each other’s sentences.

I took many photos yesterday, staring at the sun and the new reality that my long-time friend Eleanor had passed on.

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That last photo of a couple staring at the sun makes me think about Eleanor’s husband, Ira, who sent me the email yesterday about her passing.  May her memory be a comfort to him, her two children, and all who loved her.

As always, I’m staring at gratitude for all I have, here and now.

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Categories: in memoriam, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 38 Comments

Day 2631: Until it doesn’t

Everything can seem to be a certain way until it doesn’t.

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Everything looked fine about my attending a week-long conference in NYC the first week in March, until it wasn’t.

As of this morning, several people from the conference have tested positive for the coronavirus, including somebody I spent most of my time with there.

As soon as I noticed a low grade fever two days after I returned from the conference, I alerted my workplace and my doctors. Even though everything seemed fine at that point, I suspected it wasn’t.

And my fevers were low until they weren’t.

And I was in the emergency room until I wasn’t, admitted Monday night to a private room with maximum precautions.

And we believed there would be enough coronavirus tests available to test me, but there wasn’t.

There will be egregiously low access to testing in this country until there isn’t.

Because of all the scary reports of how the coronavirus might affect somebody like me (over 60 with a chronic heart issue), my immediate future is going to worry me until it doesn’t.

As I am home in self-quarantine with Michael and the cats, I am taking photos of what cheers me up until it doesn’t.

That was a tale of two kitties until it wasn’t.

I’m constantly monitoring my low grade fevers until they aren’t.

Pasta is still my favorite food until it isn’t.

This recent email exchange with my cardiologist strikes me as funny until it doesn’t:

Ann

There is nothing you can do now. If you spike a fever or get short of breath you should come to the hospital. As you know even if tested positive the plan would be to stay home.

Contact me if anything comes up.

Deeb

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Could you promise to save me a ventilator if I need one?

For old time’s sake,

Ann

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I’ll have them give you mine!

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Here‘s “It Hurts Until It Doesn’t”, a song by Mothers about a lost cat.

This post keeps going on until it doesn’t.

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 53 Comments

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