No One Sees the Same Rainbow

No one sees the same rainbow.

Humility...you tricked me again.

It is okay for me to cry...and laugh.

But I don't need to in order to feel

the greatest gift

of love and freedom.

It was there all along.

Your dying gave birth to it...

in you

and me.

Thank you.

Thank you!

Good bye.

Photo by S. Johnson.

Gary's ashes in the sky.

Memorial skydive - November 14, 2009.

I Have Been Waiting

HOT thick tears -
so hot they burn my skin.
Lumbering down my face...
trickling down my neck...so slow...they almost tickle.

It rained the day before you died.
And I could sense you didn't want me to visit.
It was the following day that matter so much.
You waited for me to arrive. Thank you.

It rained the day before we released your ashes.
It has been two months.
And I can sense you...still opening the door to love
wider and wider and wider and wider...

I remember how your chest soften and
turned warm again...relaxed...your skin aglow and pink.
But only in your heart area. Your heart!
It was my secret miracle.
OH, I WAS WATCHING! I was watching, my friend.
I wanted to shout, "Everyone, LOOK!"
I didn't.
I watched a mystery unfold before me.
Gone. Returning to cold.

Then you flew away.

All I have done since then is laugh and cry...at the same time.
And yet...I am so very happy.

Photo by C. Johnson.

One More Time Around

I had told myself I wouldn't keep telling my stories.

No one really wants to hear them anyway.

Yet, here I am again.

I had told myself I wouldn't keep telling my stories.

I should live the lessons! Feel the love!

But I still have a story.

And it still makes me cry.

Two months ago yesterday, Gary died. Bone cancer.

I was there. My hand on his leg - just above his ankle.

Repeatedly, I tell people I am sad...but it is a clean sad. Then I wonder. Was it ever messy?

Gary loved me. I knew that. But he loved me much more than I ever knew.

This is also something I keep repeating.

I didn't know he loved me that much. He loved me as a daughter.

I was honored to lay next to him on his bed as he slept.

I was honored to spoon ice chips into his tired, parched mouth.

I loved smiling at him even though he could barely open his eyes.

I loved how strong I felt when I was around him. I wasn't me. I was so much bigger.

I marveled at the way we all loved one another as visitors came and went, coming to love and say good-bye. I was honored to hold the phone to his ear when someone else called to share love and say good-bye.

I chuckle at how many times I said good-bye. Who am I to predict death? Ha! Until the last good-bye was whispered... and I knew it was the one. Ten minutes later...

I didn't know Gary loved me that much.

Nor did I realize he, of all people, would show me how to truly open to love...to receive it, not just give it. This is the lesson I am far from mastering, but slowly learning. It didn't just plant a seed. It is seared into my soul.

Waves of grief come at the oddest of times. A couple of days ago, I started bawling while drying my hair. Laughter quickly followed as I watched my face contort in the tears. Then, I noticed a vein start to bulge. It runs from my right eye brow to the bridge of my nose. More laughter as I hear my ego tell me to stop all of the emoting because bulging veins on a woman's face are unattractive!

The sadness keeps washing over me and I just return to crying.

Thank you, Gary.

I love you.

Okay, that's the last time...

Photo - Gary with his moutain lion, Tia.

This was taken long before I met Gary, but I love the love in this photo.

Ice Chips

I don't understand what comes over me.

Honored.

Love swaddled in tender peace.

Ice chips carefully spooned.

Home again.

Sadness pools.

No tears come.

I wait for a hand to rest on my cheek.

Tell me it's okay to cry.

I Wish I Had a Gary

"I wish I had a Gary," my friends and family would say when I told them of another generous thing Gary had done for us. As the boss and foster father of my former boyfriend, Gary was everything! He would give us computers, take us on trips and shower us with his love and bountiful spirit.

Gary Douris is dying. He has bone cancer.

But here is the thing. I have not always appreciated him.
So, you can imagine as he dies I am flooded with feelings of guilt.
My mind says, "I should have baked those cookies I promised...I should have visited more...I shouldn't have complained...."

The other evening I went to visit Gary. I said good-bye and told him I loved him. Carefully, my hand rested on his bare shoulder. Being touched is painful - Gary doesn't even wear clothes because they hurt. My warm hand rested on his cool shoulder. I assumed that would be all the contact we would share. I was wrong.
Gary raised his weak, skinny, trembling arms up to hug me! HE wanted to hug ME! My head rested on his bare chest. His arms quivered and jerked as he hugged me, but never have I felt so loved! Even the other two men in the room said, "Awwwwwww...."
Just when I thought I couldn't feel loved more, Gary hugged me again. BE STILL MY HEART!
I am forgiven.

As long as I have known Gary, I don't believe he has ever asked me a direct personal question.
Never. Ever.
How could he truly know me? He does!
He knew I would love his crayon drawing from first grade. I DO! (His carefully printed name on the back is what you see.)
He knew I would love his favorite childhood book The Willamette Way.
He knew I would love to see the photos of the hummingbird he rescued.

I have a Gary!
I have a Gary...for now.

Something

A friend is dying.

His knees hurt.

Morphine.









2.5 x 3.5 inches
colored pencil