Night
Stars over snow,
And in the west a planet
Swinging below a star—
Look for a lovely thing and you will find it,
It is not far—
It never will be far. Sara Teasdale
Tomorrow is a Long Time
If today was not an endless highway;
If tonight was not a crooked trail;
If tomorrow wasn’t such a long time;
Then lonesome would mean nothing to me at all. Bob Dylan – sung by Ian and Sylvia 1964
Dear friends:
This year, of course, the permanence of Dave’s death tested last year’s―call it courage or bravado or numbness. “If” and “if only” and “do I really have to” came visiting in small tantrums of disbelief and rebellion. By spells, I wanted to be anywhere but here. The trick, as you know from your own losses, becomes finding the heart to look up–beyond gray confusion and loneliness and escape–into the sky, into life, into just this moment.
This year:
- Matilda Catalina Teicuh Ferandez Walter arrived March 20. In August, her family (brother Memo, mom Emily; dad Sergio), moved to Boise where Sergio joined Boise State’s sociology department and Emily anticipates beginning post-graduate work this winter. So far, they thrive among Boise’s parks and cultures.
- Amanda enjoyed good money and muscle-stretching work on her summer contract fire crew—a welcomed contrast to the exigencies of 20 first graders. She’s weighing her career and education options after this school season in Great Falls.
- During their first St. Louis year, Heather and Coby commandeered jobs in their professional fields and purchased a diminutive historic commercial building that provides the living and studio space they sought. Santa’s likely to bring Heather an MA.
- The middle school Montana history text that Dave launched with such dedication rounded the corner toward publication. It will do his hopes for it proud.
- In October, I took on a different job within the human resource development agency for which I’ve worked for since July 2006. It’s a two-part position. For 16 hours, I provide information and assistance to area seniors on topics ranging from housing to Medicare Part D drug coverage. In the other 16 hours, I’m responsible for building our Senior Center into a body of activities, spaces, and purposes that interest more Helena area seniors.
This year, when I looked up, I was blessed with loveliness at every turn:
- Ian Tyson (pretty compelling at 74) singing his heart out for a Livingston Fairgrounds crowd—cowboys and cowgirls dressed to the nines in leather patch jackets and crinkle skirts.
- Three high school girls from Roundup and their teacher, dissecting book themes and writing styles around the dining room table, long into a May night.
- The lift of Chicago skyscrapers into a snowy sky and the dazzle of an urban art museum—new images to remember as I fell asleep.
- Andy and Alice and three-dozen other seniors who’ve shared experiences worthy of Pulitzer Prize winning biographies without ever straying into self-pity or sentimentality.
- A glimpse of new territory, a different way of life in the Slocan Valley of British Columbia.
- Books that appeared at just the right moment (in addition to those that fed my mystery addiction): Eat, Pray, Love (Gilbert); Blind Your Ponies (West); Seven Choice (Neeld); The Places that Scare You (Chodron).
- Montana skies when the forest fire smoke finally cleared.
- Montana miles along which Dave seems especially close.
- A dozen thought-provoking programs on Montana history.
- Twin fawns in the backyard; badger, bison, and sheep in the foothills of the Little Belts; Big Bertha, the last of the bunny herd, in the garage; and Mr. Noodle, the resident tomcat, in the crook of my arm as we fall asleep.
- The celestial silence of the North Fork at night.
This year, when I looked up, you—new friends and ones of longstanding—still sustained me. Your friendship and its manifestations remain the loveliest of all treasures and the most durable of antidotes to the crooked trails and long nights: wise and quiet understanding; cups of tea; end-of-the-day emails—voices through the dark; prescient calls and visits; patience with my odd off-and-on again socializing; book recommendations; honest, kindly nudges; walks; applesauce and jelly; plum picking; mailbox mail; advocacy and celebration for what we CAN do. I’m given to finding wisdom even in mysteries. Paraphrased from a Robert Parker volume: What does any woman need besides a good shrink, a good attorney, and courage. To which the answer is—friends. With great thanks for true friendship in the dark and light of this year. And with the warmest wishes for joy—each day.
