1095 days {blind faith}

{the 8th/9th will be 3 years. i've already written this post for those dates. i'm going to be swamped with work after today, my only day off, until after Valentine's Day. if you will pardon the expression, i'm buried in work. so i'm posting my 3 year missive today.}

it feels longer. it feels like forever. and then it hits me. again. he's never coming back.

i don't know if the shock has worn off yet. i guess it has, but i keep getting hit over and over. he's gone. i'm not going to be seeing him again.

he always seemed invincible. he was so hard and rough. he was a Marine. Force Recon. he was a sniper. he would be gone, but then he would come back to me. sometimes, when he would be gone, i would curl up in a ball on the bed and sob with worry that he would be lost out there in the world and they would not be able to bring him back to me; not be able to retrieve his body. the places they sent him to, the things he did, he couldn't tell me. i just knew from the look in his eyes and the additional scars on his body.

he hurt outside, and inside. he would hold me and ask for absolution.

i heard this soliloquy. i wrote it down as fast as i could. i hit me so hard when i heard it. it made me think of my Dragon.

spies live in the shadows but they dream of the light. when you work in covert ops for low pay and in life threatening conditions, the idea that your work won't remain secret forever keeps you going. one day, the world will learn what you've done even if your name is never known. some of the sweetest moments come when the job ends and the bullets stop flying ~ that is unless one of those bullets rips through your chest.

he always got home to me, even if bullets did rip through him, and believe me they did. and knives. i would take care of him and he would heal. and for that space and time, we were one.

and then he would go back out again. and our one was split; two halves separated waiting to be rejoined. and i would take care of him again. we would hold each other and his body would shake with sobs that would never come to the surface. he wanted absolution. he craved salvation for things he did for his country that he could never speak about.

i love him. i will always be in love with him. i feel like i am living without air. i've learned to breathe underwater because he would want me to. new life. new location. new job. all without him. all so different. like i am on another planet.
what we had together......the things i could tell you......the way he was with me. i don't know if it was rare. it was rare for me to be loved at all. and his devotion, that was all so new to me, to be cherished like that. and short. such a short time to be with the person i was meant to be with. the only one. my only love.

he is gone now and it has shaken me to my soul. what does it mean to die? where did he go? Heaven? Purgatory? no one can answer me on this. i hope no one tries. when i close my eyes and die, will he be there? we all say it to each other, "he's waiting for you." and we mean it from the bottom of our hearts. we want to offer comfort and reassure each other that the one person we connected with here is waiting for us there. but do we, in the dark of our own grief, fully believe and embrace it to the point where we no longer have any doubts when we are on our own? ever? even when we are very tired or stressed?

is he happy? does he remember me? is he safe?

we never really know how much we believe in something, or trust it, until it is tested. i always believed, you die, you go to Heaven, or Hell, and most certainly i have tried to be a good girl. but how narrow is that opening to get into Heaven? do snipers get in? do widows who grieve and ask questions, and have doubts get in?

i always trusted that, if you were good, you got into Heaven. it was supposed to comfort the grief-stricken. but now that belief has been tested with the death of my Dragon. i am finding myself worrying at times, in both the day and in the dark, about Heaven, and if God loves us enough. have i been good enough? have i said enough prayers? have i been humble enough?

all i can do is keep going. keep praying. and hold on to a faith so blind that i am stumbling a bit.

a woman wrote me yesterday through one of my hubpages articles. she is terribly worried and wanted to know what i thought about something. her father had died and she is grieving for him. her Aunt says her grief is out of proportion and that she is keeping her father's soul from entering Heaven by "calling him back with your grief." i wrote to her and gave her my opinion in a gentle and delicate, and faith-based way with full consideration to her feelings. but between you and me here, in a nutshell, i gave her the long version of this: i told her her Aunt was a poisonous bitch who was either stupid or cruel.

i hate cruelty. there is absolutely no reason for it. none.

i made a Bunny for the Grief Project. i sent her off believing i would never seen her again. but one day she appeared at my door. she came to visit me through my Dragon Days. is this a small sign? is grasping at straws and calling them signs a sin?
she brought a card signed by people i have never met. it said i could lean awhile. the little girl on the left, the one who's leaning, her expression......that bewildered, slightly hurt, little bit fearful expression is one i mask every day i leave the apartment.
but i did. i leaned on Lucy. i cried and could not speak. i cried and finally spoke.
i talked about my fears. i talked about my worries. i talked about my Dragon, my now immortal beloved.

my Dragon has left me here alone, testing my belief in Heaven, leaving me here with only blind faith. and i am so very blind.

the only thing i have is a song.

exactly on the nose 24 hours after he died, a radio that had never played before turned itself on and played Sarah MacLachlan's "Angel." to be precise the chorus played: "in the arms of the angels far away from here....."

that song is all i have really have to cling to, that and blind faith ~ the biggest test of all.

it's a very pretty song.

my Dragon has a name

i am autonomous now. i am my own country. i am the Widow Bunny living in the Land of Forever Grief. i am the Dragon's wife and it is time i stand for him. that person out there {Voldemort} can wound me but he can no longer reach out and hurt me. he no longer has control over me. i am on my own, finally, frighteningly, but out of reach of the harm that he can cause. so now, it is time. i feel it in my heart.

you've "met" my Dragon. you've seen the photos i've posted. you now know his smile.

you've read where we lived. beside the North Atlantic. so beautiful. so austere, even in our short summers. we truly lived, he and i. we were so terribly poor but we were wonderfully happy. we had all of the great outdoors as our playground. we had the ocean and all its gifts. we had our island. we had each other.

i've told you all about my Dragon, the kind of man he is. he still is that kind of man because only his body died. not his soul. he has transcended this life but he is still the man i love. i've told you of his sacrifices for his country as a Marine. i've told you of his sacrifices as a {step} father to my two children. such a wonderful man. his laughter, contagious. his smile, warm. his hands, strong and always there for me. his heart, faithful and courageous in the face of hardship. he is as permanent in my life as the granite boulders that surround where we lived and loved together.

and i have told you how he died. i have told you that it was sudden and shattering. i told you of the terrible cold of that winter night. 4 below zero. we already had 3 feet of snow on the ground on that frigid 8th of February at 11:45 when he was rushed to the ER due to a heart attack. 12:03 AM ~ 9 February 2009 ~ he had to go where i cannot as of yet.
he flew to the other side of our moon. the Dragon and the moon. now Bunny and her moon. so lonely standing out in the dark looking up at the sky. or during the daylight hours on a waxing moon as Bunny searches the sky for Dragon.

Dragon has a name. Carl.

the ache that lives inside me

there is an ache that has moved in. it lives inside me now. it will be there until i die.

i have known great pain in my life. i have known terror. i have lived in fear. but i have never had an ache like this. this is the ache of mourning. of grief. of loneliness for only one person. the one person i can never have again in this lifetime.

i say "in this lifetime" because if i did not add that little phrase, i would hyperventilate. i need to see it there. i need to reassure myself that i will see him again. that he is waiting for me....

maybe on the other side of my moon.

i love the moon. all of it's phases. all of the colors it can be. i love the moon. in inconstant moon that is altered and reshaped with the suns capricious whims. inconstant because that is what nature wills. like the death of my Dragon. capricious. what nature willed.

i am missing him so much since Christmas. the downfall of Bunny started with that first cough of that round of pneumonia. and then her birthday, our birthday, hers and mine. then the 2nd year milestone and Valentine's Day ~ the infamous day of hearts for some and funerals for others. and finally the crowning blow. another attack of pneumonia.

Brokedown Bunny. crying a little more these days than before.

the moon, the stars, Bunny and her Dragon. heaven and dragons and bunnies. such an odd companionship. such an odd, odd, image. and yet, for Bunny, for me, the ache that lives in my heart. the pain of searching the moon for a passing shadow of a Dragon. the pain of hoping he is waiting for me, and sometimes, God help me, sometimes being afraid he is not.

the Bun and her Great Sparkly Moon Book. the Bun and her whimsical clothes.

the Bun and her little toy Dragon. if they weren't so cute looking together it could almost make you cry.

burning photos

nothing really to say.

just one of those nights.

lonely.

burning photos off the computer and being hit with the knowledge that there will never be anymore.

missing him.

the music says it all.

such a cutie

Carmen Sophia loved to help him drive.

he was my scavenger in places i was afraid to go.

you're still the one.

"...what we do for others and the world remains and is immortal."

i read other blogs, blogs that have nothing to do with grief. i found this one and i cried. the tears were from the emotion of seeing what this young man did.

please go here and look at the photos. i looked this story up and the little dog was swept off the pier by gale force winds. this was down in Australia. the young man who jumped in to say the dog, Bibi, was on the pier with family dispensing his grandmother's ashes.

and here is my hero doing something no one saw but me, and the old lady.

we are all heroes. we have all done something that speaks to our character, to the person our husbands and wives fell in love with. this is one small part of my Dragon.




i know my Marlene Dietrich friends are my heroes. i know my children are as well. i hope i am to someone. i try to be everyday when i look into the eyes of the people i perform the heart ceremony for at work, and with every stitch i take while i sew for someone else. i am not saving the world. i am not even saving a small dog. but i hope i am saving something inside someone.

that's what i'd like to bring to my Dragon when i meet him again after i die. i want to tell him i did a very small something for the world. Bunny wants to, too. that's why she's on her world tour.

i wish peace and light to all.

"turn on the light" or Bunny makes a short independent film

Bunny made a little film. it is short. it is startling. it is not for the faint of heart. but sometimes on a widow's journey, people need to be startled. they need to be drawn up short. they need to understand how dark it can get. how lonely. how frightened a widow can become with all her worries and all her wonder about her husband.

so this little film is one that Bunny made. what an actress! wow, Bunny can be very dramatic. love what she did with the lighting, and getting the camera to focus close up on her fuzzy little face there at the last second before the scream. love it. love it all. Bunny did a great job. okay, maybe she got a little carried away but when the creative juices are flowing, there is no telling what can come up.

Bunny has been so very tired lately. she is doing so well at work but she gets scared. work hours are performance based. they have some new hires, all young people, and Bunny is being the best little Bunny bear associate she can be. she says "yes, yes, yes" to everything. she needs the hours she has, if not more. she got a 25 cent an hour raise. 25 whole cents an hour.

ah, the world of retail. where you give your all and get the pat on the back with a quarter more an hour. *sigh*

i do not know what i wish anymore. i know my Dragon is in a better place. he has to be happy where he is. it is what i pray for countless times a day. just a quick, "let him be in Heaven."

me? the Bun? definitely Purgatory. i miss him fiercely. i miss the way he smelled. i miss his voice. i miss his hands reaching for mine, or for some other body part of mine. i need his counsel. i need his eyes looking into mine with his wild love and solemn promise that he won't leave me here.

having said that, scroll up and hit replay on the little film that Bunny made. it's dark here where i am. not outside. inside. i feel dark inside. i am on the down turn of this roller coaster right now. i know there will be an upswing, but for now, my art of grief is dark. as are my thoughts. as is my mood.

someone please, "turn on the light."

Dragon in Stone ~ because Lonesome Dove asked

i have insomnia. i had it as a child, a teenager, and an adult. i sleep fairly light. i think i am always on guard. sometimes i read. sometimes i give in to my imagination that works such overtime hours and get up. Marilyn's Melrose Inn was too beautiful to try and doze when i knew my time there would be so short. Marilyn had collected treasures from years and years of searching or stumbling over all the things she has placed in her inn, her home.

very early one morning, i wandered into the expansive dining room. we had talked about isolation the day before and i was feeling it close in on me as the weekend was coming to a close. i would be going back to my apartment that i am very grateful to have, but i would indeed be going back to physical isolation. not mental because i know how to entertain myself. i know how to sit silently in a room.

i found this dragon. the morning sun was streaming in from a window far across the dining room. in that early silent morning when i was the only one awake, and up, wandering around, it seemed to me that the sun had traveled 93 million miles plus 20 feet to touch this little dragon sculpture that had been placed in this stone. it is an igneous rock. the dragon was created to be a fierce creature moving through its hard, impermeable mass as if it were water.
it took my breath away. he is gold. he is handsome. i got teary.

he was in a hutch in an area that is probably not investigated very often. he is small. those are flower ceramic pots he sits beside. it made me think of my Dragon. my husband. the man and the myth.

so i took this photograph.

my husband was known as a good man whose job took him "out of town" at times. he was a Scoutmaster. and that's all they knew.

i knew him as the Dragon of the Corps. i saw his scars. i knew his stories. i was there the times he woke up fighting a foe from long ago, or last month. i was there when he would get caught in a moment, something in a film we were watching that caused a flashback to a "brother" he could not save.

i knew him as my husband who held my hand and had my back. he kept me warm when i was cold, yes, even metaphorically cold. life cold. he kept my feelings safe and my mind entertained with laughter, his irreverence, and his teasing. he was a very earthy man, tactile, sexual, sensual, and affectionate. we were guilty of mild public displays of affection.

i knew him as my companion and confident. i could tell him things that no one knew. and he believed me. he saw my scars and kissed them as i had kissed all of his. we validated each other.

i also knew him as My Dragon. i saw him confront the demon in my life and teach him the meaning of fear, and the truth that he would follow through with his promise should either my children or i be hurt.

i knew him as my lover. he gave me tenderness.

i knew the man and i knew the myth that surrounded him. he was the Dragon but he was my Dragon and i knew both sides. i knew the man ~ his tenderness and love and search for absolution for the service he gave his country. i knew the myth ~ his emotions shut off as he left for a trip to i never knew where, or if he would come back.

the Dragon is more than a nickname. it is his legacy. protection, loyalty, rule-breaker, fierce, lover, loner, family man. in every dragon i see, i find something of him. i miss him desperately. i need his strength. i want to be the dragoness but my scales are slow in growing. i think exhaustion and worry, strife and sorrow are preventing them from coming in quickly. i am tried. i ache. i ache for him and for relief.

but i am the Dragon's wife and, if i wake up, i will get up, and i will keep going. as much as i am further away from when we last touched, i am closer to being with him again, however time and life and fate plays out.

Dragon in Stone. it is a beautiful image.

Soul Widows Spiritual Retreat ~ Five ~ Saturday ~ Meditation

i was not the first to go to her room to try for sleep, and only a widow or widower knows what i mean when i say "try" for sleep. but i did sleep in the Whimsy Room. and i woke early as is my habit. it was still dark outside and i felt cocooned in that lovely, small space. so much had gone on the day before, so much enlightenment. i wanted to quietly explore this old inn. i wanted to mull over what i had experienced on Friday, and gather my strength to face the revelations that were to come. we were going to be talking about isolation and that is a heavy subject for me.i walked downstairs and peered out the old door. dawn had arrived. so lovely. so soft. i like this time of day.
i had seen her when i first put foot on the porch, but there was a carved wooden angel i wanted to visit with. her expression is somber and it seemed she carried her own sorrows. but she is solid and firmly sitting there. she is close to the door but not beside it. she is beside the window to the alcove where we talk and laugh, and sob. i asked her if she listened to us, but she kept her silent counsel and i smiled at the wisdom of it. sometimes all you need to know is that someone is sitting there. sometimes there are no answers to the trouble. but to have a friend who comes to you in the darkness in your soul and is willing to keep vigil is enough. it made me think of the women still asleep upstairs.
i wandered down the porch to a twig bench and i sat and had my quiet communion with my beliefs. i pray. what i mean to say is, i have 4 prayers i say and i hope it does not sound rote to God and the other Holy names i speak to. but i also have a conversation. i am not a good Catholic. i wish i were. i have not found a way to the closest Catholic Church since i have lived here and i admit i am getting tired of fighting for it. so i talk to Him.

before my Dragon died, i only prayed my prayers twice a day. now, since my Dragon died, i have conversations, much like when i talked to my Dragon. i do not expect an answer, or one right away, and yet somehow, with regards to faith, i do not feel alone. and that is all i will say about faith, not religion, faith. i do not impose but in revealing with honesty about my morning meditations, i will speak to it.
as the day brightened and i heard stirrings and footfalls on the stairs inside, i sat on the steps for a self portrait in homage to the architecture, the treasures placed all about, and to nature. i love this inn. it is a refuge. it was a perfect place for a spiritual retreat.
i went inside and found my tribe smiling, talking loudly as women well acquainted will do, and the wonderful smells of a hot breakfast.

Soul Widows retreat ~ to heal or not to heal

she leaves in the morning; getting picked up around 9:30 am. the Bun is packed. she is ready to go and try to find something she thinks is missing from her life; her right to talk about him to someone other than her daughter and son.

she writes about him all the time. she thinks about him more. every stitch she takes with a needle and thread, or floss, is in his honor, for his memory. she even stitches her signature to sign her work with his initials and hers.

but she has not been able to, or been allowed to sit with someone to really talk about how she feels. okay. that is not entirely accurate. she got to talk to a nun who is a counselor. but for that one hour, the nun wanted to know about her ex-husband and those years. and then Bunny could not pay for any more sessions.

then she got to talk to that grief counselor through the hospice once face-to-face, but then only once more via iChat. she was told she was doing quite well for the life she had faced, the life she and her Dragon had dreamed of and then lost when he died, and the life she is facing now with her peculiar set of circumstances. "quite well." uhmm hummm. okie dokie.

but even if Bunny is doing "quite well," she felt it would be nice to have someone to talk to for a little while longer on a regular basis. "quite well" is all well and good, but there is loneliness and the feeling of not ever getting to really talk about her Dragon. to be able to just tell some stories with her voice, see someone else listen to her and acknowledge that they recognize what her Dragon means to her.

well, the Bun is packed and has dragged her bag to sit beside the door on the floor in front of the television. she has her camera and her new jacket. she knows it will be cool where she is going. she has her robe and slippers in case there is a kind of slumber party aspect later on one evening. she is excited in anticipation of getting to sit with a small group of women where everyone gets a turn.

now, now, Bunny knows her place. she isn't going to gab, gab, gab. she knows she is not that exciting to listen to, but she is just so happy to be allowed to go and share a little bit.

but will Bunny "heal?" what is healing anyway? Bunny has put a lot of thought into this lately. how does one define healing? is she healed if she smiles more? is she healed if she laughs more? is she healed if she gets her job and is more 'productive?' but then who is harder working or more focused than the Bun? oh, my gosh, she works upwards of 12 - 14 hours a day as it is? she bought a can of frozen juice just to keep in the freezer to hold in her hand to help ease the aches in her hands when it gets really bad.

what is healing? is she healed if she dates again? {yech.} will she be thought of as healed if she {gulp} gets in a relationship? she cannot bear the thought. she was married twice. once to a not-so-nice man. and once to her other half. she has too many scars. she has too many memories. she was so very happy with her Dragon. to have that again, seems as remote as the sun exploding tomorrow. to have something less will be a terrible thing to do to the other person. it would have to be something so different, so unexpected, but then her Dragon was so very unexpected. kismet. soul mate. once in a lifetime fairy tale stuff. and who is the Bun to think she deserves something nice again? she got heaven and the moon and the stars with her Dragon. what else is there?

so what is healing? what does Bunny expect from a spiritual retreat? nothing more than to be able to share what her life with her Dragon was like. nothing more than to be able to share how much she loves him. nothing more than that. she just wants to be able to talk a tiny little bit about her Dragon in a comfortable setting with loving and open hearts around her. she does not want to be judged, or critiqued, or dismissed. she wants to quietly and succinctly speak about her lovely Dragon and what the loss of him has done to her, to another human face who does not have her on the clock. that's all.
Bunny's babies are a little worried and clingy and sad. they saw her pack. Mr. Scootie Wootums of the Stardust Eyes who is Lord of the Dance is a little down. Bunny is having to give him lots of hugs and kisses on his curious little nose.
Miss Carmen Sophia the Wild Gypsy Girl with the Sensitive Soul has her goosey-goose toy with her and keeps trying to sneak it in the bag. she wants to go. but Bunny's daughter is taking care of her fuzzy babies. Bunny loves her fuzzy babies so much. they have been there with her in the trenches of grief. they have been beside her, pressed so close to her, when she has howled in deep sorrow and despair.

and if you remember, rabbits only howl in death. maybe it was her Dragon's death that happened but Bunny feels like she died, too. her goal? if Bunny can stop howling with grief in her mind in the dead of the night, she will believe some healing has, indeed, taken place. if she can simply stop howling over and over, get the night of his death to fade a bit, then the Bun will count her blessings and present that as proof that healing has taken place.

see, Bunny is better.

peace to all who read. peace and light to all who grieve.

happy Halloween & the VA update

first off, i hope you enjoy the song i added for Halloween.

and now for the blog.

i do not believe in cliffhangers for the sake of having a cliffhanger so i will get right to it.

i called the VA again. i have been almost hyperventilating with panic. my claim for my Dragon's death pension has been approved. the letter is in the mail. i will not know how much i will get each month but it will be something. i know it will not be enough to pay my rent and electric and cable. i have to accept that fate. it panics me, but there it is.

when he told me, i thanked him. i think it was my voice. i was not ebullient. in fact i was shuddering on sobs. the man asked me if i was all right. i said, "yeah. i guess so. we'll see." he asked if i was in trouble. i said, "financially? definitely. emotionally? always will be. my husband is dead."

then he said, "i know, ma'am. i am so very sorry. and i'm sorry it took so long. i wish i could tell you what the letter states but i can't over the phone. but it's coming and you've been approved. it isn't enough for what he went through. he earned a hellava lot more, but it's all we can give you. i am a Force Recon Marine from the 'Nam era. i know what he went through. call us if you have any questions."

we disengaged the conversation and i just sat there. the letter is coming. i have been approved. and yet i am still frightened. i do not know how much it will be but, hey, it will be better than what i have coming in right now. i can only hope i can make it all work.

on Wednesday, Nov 3rd, i have a job interview at ...... wait for it ....... cliffhanger ..... Build-A-Bear. it is a group job interview and i still may wash out but, i got called to come in. my meager resume that reflects teaching pre-school and teaching art to K through 6th grade about 100 years ago, and then being an artist all my life seemed to not throw them off yet. so pray for me if you believe. i see that many do not {pray/believe multiple choice} anymore and i apologize for asking for prayers so intensely when i was falling apart a bit ago. it was not my intent to upset anyone or proselytize anyone into Christianity or the Roman Catholic Church. although, do i get points for Heaven if i do? sorry. i had to do that. a little joke between me and someone who "May Stop Reading Your Blog!"

i got a random email after my panicked posting of before telling me this person was going to stop reading my blog if i did not stop shoving God down everyone's throat. i did not write back, but i thought, how will your stopping reading hurt me when i did not know you read in the first place? and how is your stopping reading going to hurt me at all? "ooooo. i going to stop reading your blog." okay. so stop.

so for those who do not pray, i guess, and only if you choose to, cross your fingers for me shortly after lunch time that day. that's when the interview starts. unless crossing your fingers is somehow against some deity or ideal you cleave to. {i just wanted to see how far i could push it. i will be waiting to see if i get another email from this person, and btw, "God."}

in the meantime, the Bun has been busy. her fuzzy hands are flying all over the place on different commissions.

and the Bun is very, very excited. she goes on the Soul Widows retreat next weekend ~ the 5th - 7th. here is another link to Elizabeth's site specifically for this retreat. you can see what Bunny will be doing that weekend and at what time. sort of voyeuristically stalking the Bun.

i write for an online resource magazine and i will be posting there about the retreat. not while i am there. Bunny cannot afford that kind of technology. i will write about it when i get back, and here as well.

in the meantime, while waiting on the VA letter {whew i think/i hope/at least it is something} and waiting on the job interview, and to go to the spiritual retreat, the Bun, me, i am filling my hours embroidering, sewing, quilting, doing what i hope is a lasting legacy. and if i am only known as "CR 'heart' SR" then i will be known as "Dragon loves Bunny" and that is pretty cool.

happy Halloween everyone. i wish for you all no tricks, just treats. and hope. lots and lots of peace and hope.

epiphany

last night was a bad night for sleeping for some reason. maybe because rent is due tomorrow and i am waiting on the transfer. maybe because it feels like Fall outside right now. it rained yesterday and all last night. there is a cool wind. leaves doing their fluttering leaf thing ~ dancing and playing with the breeze while hanging onto their tree, in total control, until fate decides for them to let go.

then they seem like a kite with a broken string, going where the wind takes them, however far. but then i thought, maybe they were not in control while tethered to the tree, but only after they were free. maybe life really starts for them after they let go. maybe they aerodynamically control where they want to land. it is not for us to really know. a mystery of life. but it gave me an idea that my Dragon was let go so he could be free to fly in a different albeit more beautiful place.

i had an epiphany late last night, or early this morning, whatever your frame of reference.
it was like Dandy up there. the light shone in my brain and it felt like all the clutter of my sorrow and grief were stripped away. like Dandy, i saw the sky clearly. i think i know why my Dragon died first.

i have lived a loner life. i stayed out of range of my parents. i skipped ahead in school and therefore was not a peer of the people in class. i kept my back to the wall and strategically planned each day during my first marriage. when i met my Dragon, it took a moment, but i ultimately gave in body and soul. he is so strong. he is so resilient. he had survived so many things. he was a loner like me. and we had found each other. we did not have to be alone anymore.

we took so many walks. everyday we ventured to a new area to see what beauty was hidden up in somewhere. and we talked.
he told me his stories. he told me of his life. he told me his dreams, his hopes, and his wishes. he told me he loved me and that he knew he could not face a life without me. i thought he was being cute and romantic. never dreamed he was speaking seriously because, well, look at him. he is a Marine. he has been everywhere and done so many things in life and death situations. he is invincible.
he was my scavenger. he found shells and stones for my sculptures. he kept me safe while i looked through the camera lens. he kept me warm when it was cold. he swam with me in the ocean and taught me how to be free no matter where i am or how locked down i was. he taught me how to be wild and free in my mind.
he died so suddenly. one minute he was with me, beside me. his arm was behind me and his fingers were stroking my arm. then his fingers were digging into my arm and he was gasping for a breath.

i do not know this for fact because no one with medical training was there, but i believe he was gone before the EMT's got there. there was no light in his eyes. there was nothing in his eyes. he left me to be alone in this world that is, quite often, cold and cruel.

i have been cleaning out things. i have been tossing things i do not need to keep just because he touched it once. i found a letter written on the back of a hand-drawn map. i had never seen this before but it was in his "go bag" so i never had reason to go through it. but he has died and i have finally had the courage to go through it. these are the things he used when he would go "out of town." on the back of the map he wrote, "I need to go first. I can't live without you. You think I'm strong but I'm not. It's bull-headedness. I'm only strong enough so I can get back to you. But if something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to take it. All the light would be gone and I can't live in the dark after I've been given the light of your love. You're aren't living in the shadows. You're only the silhouette that stands behind the light you shine on me. Don't ever leave me. Don't die before me. I'm not strong enough. Only God knows how much I love you."

so you see. it had to be me here alone. he thought i was strong enough to be alone in this life without him. he is wrong but i am going to let it slide. it is the first time he has been wrong.

i always did what he asked of me because he asked so little and he always asked with a kiss. well, i will try to do this. he said he had to go first. he knew the ending of "Bicentennial Man" would not happen for us. so did i really, but i am an artist so i am always dreaming, conjuring up something magical and beautiful in my mind so i do not have to face reality.

i will do this for him. i will live as best as i can. he thinks i am strong enough so i will not give up. i will hold my head up to keep an eye out for danger, and to take my pictures of the full moon. but i will mostly keep my head down and sew and sketch and write. i will continue on in the shadows because the light he believed i possessed is shining forward, looking for him.

"Sock" Beach Bunny

i call her "Sock" Beach Bunny. she isn't as lovely as my store-bought Bunny. she looks more like me. her stuffing has shifted with age. she's not as thin as she used to be. she looks a little care-worn. she is definitely more me.

i made her from the pair of socks my Dragon wore the day he died. i cannot tell the story of how this certain pair of socks became so important. his birthday is Thursday. i fly out on Friday morning. i'll cry if i type it and i have sewing to finish up today. i got my hair trimmed yesterday. i have a shaggy bob whatever the hell that is. tomorrow my daughter is coming over to highlight my hair. she insists i do it. she says it will make me feel good. i just like it when she comes over.
i hand-appliqued a silk dragon on the back of her little jacket. Dragon has her back so anybody who wants to be mean, beware. "here there be Dragons." =0} Bunny has a rough, tough Dragon who, though he is not really here, his love and her love for him keeps her getting tougher every few months....you know, these things take time, and i miss him a lot...... *sigh*

i embroidered {tattooed?} a purple heart to her chest since she has been "wounded by life."

she's going to Camp Widow. she will be in the pictures i do not want to be in, or am too self-conscious to be in.......i need a rum and coke. i always look better to everyone after they have a rum and coke.

Beach Bunny signing off until next week.

peace.

my Dragon ~ Chinese verses Revelations

i read at night when i cannot sleep. i have been doing some reading about Heaven and hell and, in due course, have gotten to Revelations. here is where the references of the dragon as symbolic of evil got to me. My Dragon is not that dragon and i wanted to write this out for my own sake, for the sake of communicating the kind of person he is.

he was born in 1952, which is the year of the Dragon on the Chinese calendar. he is half Russian, ¼ Sioux, and ¼ Inuit. his father was in the Air Force and so they lived all over the world. he is very self-confident, bordering on a little arrogant, but in a good way. the fun way. he loved my teasing him about his being so sure.

my Dragon was drafted in 1969. back then when you were drafted you had a choice of which branch you could enter. if you did not choose you went into the Army. my Dragon chose the Marine Corps because the Marines signed you up for 4 years rather than the Army’s 6 and my Dragon wanted to get back to college. he had only just completed his freshman year. his first tour in Vietnam was in 1970. it was still a bad time in that particular “conflict” and he had become part of an experimental unit. he went on two more tours in Vietnam, his second being when he earned the nickname Dragon. in the jargon of the military, it had been a “bad day” but my Dragon had stayed on his feet, fought fiercely, and gotten all four of his men back, shot up some but none of them died out there that time. there’s more to the story so accept that he earned his name. Dragon.

it was Vietnam and therefore under the influence of Oriental philosophy, mostly Chinese. the men chose that influence for my husband’s nickname; not Bible scripture, nothing Satanic was intended. his nickname comes from the Celestial Chinese Dragon, which is referred to as the mythical creature that brings prosperity, good fortune and abundance to the Chinese people.

the Chinese Dragon is benevolent and signifies greatness, goodness, and blessings. it also represents power, boldness, heroism, perseverance, nobility and divinity. it is Western Dragons that have the negative connotations. Eastern Dragons are beautiful, friendly, and wise. they are sometimes called the angels of the Orient. many Chinese cities have pagodas where people burn incense and pray to dragons with special services taking place there on the 1^st and 15^th of every month. the thing that made me smile when i looked all this up is that most of the Dragon shrines and altars are usually along the seashore and riverbanks because it is believed that Eastern Dragons live in water.

the Chinese Dragon is seen as the symbol of divine protection and vigilance and regarded as the Supreme Being amongst all creatures. it has the ability to live in the sea, fly up to the heavens and coil up on the land in the form of mountains. it wards off evil spirits and protects the innocent.

there was a lot more in the books i checked out of the library but i wanted to clarify who my Dragon is. in my reading of the Bible, i was getting tense when reading Revelations. that is not the reference that should be linked to my Dragon.

my husband is honest, good, kind, and did his duty to his country. he risked his life over and over to protect innocence. it is true that he killed men but it was war; every time it was because of war, conflict, enforcement of the law, etc. however i can describe it.

my Dragon is a rescuer of puppies who get caught around trees and rocks.

he has a great sense of fun and adventure.

i love his legs, his hands, his shoulders, his beard, his expressions, his lips, did i mention that i think he is so very handsome?

he put up with me and that is asking a lot of a man.

he is fearless, always was.

i simply wanted to clarify who my Dragon is for anyone who may correlate the nickname Dragon with something evil. my husband is not evil. he is the best man i will ever know. i love him so very much, more than i could ever help anyone understand or believe.

my Dragon is not perfect but he is mine. i would marry him all over again and forever link my soul with his. he is strong and right now, here in this world by myself, i really need to draw on the strength that he had. i need to hold his smile close in my mind and put the love we had in that hole where my heart used to be.

of note, when i type my thoughts out, i do type of him in the past tense, and then i proofread and stop at each verb and change them all to present tense. because i hold the belief that we do not change simply because we die. we are the same there as we are/were here.

i love my Dragon. i love him for all the goodness that he is (was) (had) inside him. i love his handsomeness on the outside. i love his intelligence that was inspiring and challenging. i love his sense of humor. i love who he is, was, and would have been as we got old and decrepit.

he promised me he would chase me down the hall to our bedroom via the help of his walker. i look at my photos of him and wish we had been given the chance. i thank God i had what i had with him. i pray about when we are reunited, womanNshadows and her Dragon ~ the good Dragon.