You extraordinary human... I spent most of the past three years caring for my best friend as she lived through and then died of terminal breast cancer, and I felt deeply the sacrosanct and the sacrilegious nature of that path as I read this post. Thank you for using this place as an outlet, for making it into art, and for letting us see you and ourselves in you.
I am just getting a chance to respond now, though I saw this when you wrote it. Your words...even though you wrote them awhile ago, and they hold me still. Your caring for your friend...yes, I love that...the sacrosanct and the sacrilegious nature of this path. Thank you Morgan.
Oh Joanna, my heart wells up as tears blur your beautifull honest words. You are so present with what life is giving you. My prayers are going up and out and so many others who love you are all sending our own companion Grief hand in hand with Hope that you will have strength you need. You are surviving everyone's worst fears one moment at a time. We are holding space for you and Glen. Even those of us who don't know either of you in person, yet the love and compassion fill us up like springs to overflow in your direction. So much sorrow and yet gratitude for your letting us be part of your journey. The same (though unique) journey we all will or are or have taken. Out of this life into what follows. You are very loved. So is Glen, well loved. Nathalie, from Austin
Oh Nathalie from Austin! I love reading your posts and your comments. I feel you, right next to me, through your words, your care, and your love. You are helping me get through, as you say, one moment at a time. The space you are holding, it is profound to me. Thank you. xoxo
My memory is failing. I “heard” reassurance recently in despair over probable dementia that runs in my family “I created you an exuberant lover of life with your traits that will always be yours. When you have no memory you’ll still be you, present moment to moment, loving people and sharing your wisdom - even when knowledge is gone. As you were at 3 and 9 and 35 and are at 75.” Joanna your loving response is another word from HP to reassure me.
"When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid."
Thank you for this, Jo. Of course, you preserve what you can for Glen to live how he can. You two are courageous, smart, intuitive and loving. You make good decisions in this life. And Margie, I hope she meets A TON of famous people at that eternal party, filled with whimsical animal friends.
Thank you for sharing with us. I remember your mom and this sounds so much like her- joyful and kind. I keep you in my heart and hope for the best outcome for Glenn, and his drs to work their magic.
Thank you Kristen. So much love to you and your family, and to your dearest mom, who shaped my life so deeply, with her kindness, her artistry, and her generous heart. xoxo
Joanna. words get trapped in the teardrops and I think, how precious words are. How blessed I am to be able to share them in all the ways and understand...most of them, too. And the animals. How your mom talks to them and they talk to her. That mysterious language that may sound like silence to the ears but holds feeling and truth and welcomes all form of communication to those who listen. Your ears, Your Voice, Your Heart, Your Dance, Your Medicine. Right in the middle of the worlds here. I am with Gabrielle --standing in that grove of Aspen as one of the many who joins my roots to the others holding you. In love, witnessing and prayer. In gentleness
A friend said to me the other day, "How are you doing this right now?" and my answer was "I am still standing because of the people around me who are holding and witnessing, who are joining roots. The great love that is pouring our way. It is stunning and sustaining."
Thank you does not come close to the gratitude I feel, but I will say it anyway - thank you Karla. xoxox
Oh, dearest Jo and dearest Glen -- aspen tree inside, quaking, moved by winds of life, of change. Maybe we could be your forest of aspens, connected by one root system, holding us all around you, bowing, waving, quaking, dancing with the breezes and winds. Grieving, too. I'm with Kate -- more spaces for grief, and all the small and bigger deaths we encounter; however each person's experiencing of grief needs to be. No prescriptions, no expectations, maybe even no narrative: just feeling. just being. Things come and go, and they stay as long as they stay. No timeline for grief, either. Holding you both with tender sad love and heart, and such deep appreciation for who you both are, and for this process each of you is in and you're in together 💓💜
I love your mom's animals and party and turquoise party dress, and how you were with her. Maybe the animals are greeting her, as much as saying goodbye. And, look how much she cared about each one, inviting bear to come closer; wanting the dogs to have all the water they need, and treats, too. Amazing, that that's where her mind -- and heart -- went. May the party be a blast, a beautiful thing.
Hugging, dancing, rooting, being, loving -- in concert with you, Glen, your mom ~
Hmmmmm...."maybe even no narrative: just feeling. just being". Yes.
Oh, and also yes! I think so, that the animals are greeting my mom, as much as they are saying good-bye. I love that. One more yes: maybe the party be a blast, a beautiful thing. I think it will be.
I'm thinking of you on this day before Glen's surgery. Thinking how huge it is to sit by the side of those you love, your mom and Glen, as they go through their processes of life and death. I see the way your soft sense of humor, your ability to communicate and your heart continue to open and sing, to be fully with what is unfolding. I love your honesty and courage to share through it all. Huge hugs and love, Delisa
Thank you dearest Delisa. I read this on May 10th, when you wrote it, but am only getting a chance to respond now. But your words, they have stayed with me these past few weeks. Carrried me through until I was able to come back to this thread and say to you, thank you. For your love and your generous spirit. love and love and then more. xooxox
Oh! And ... "Sister help to trim the sails, hallelujah.... The river is deep and the river is wide, hallelujah. Milk and homey [hahaha! ... homey?! ... honey!] on the other side, hallelu-uu-jah."
i am blown away ... by hearing only yesterday the tumour had returned, and now about your mother. i am so so sorry. your courage to explore and share this heartbreak reminds me i what a blessing your love has been to them both. hoping that all is going or went as well as it could today. i’ll watch for news with everyone else. ❤️
And what a blessing their love has been, and continues to be, to me. All I feel, truly truly, is lucky right now. Which is weird, I know, but I do. Looking forward to seeing you in September. xoxo
Give your mom a kiss from me. She was the best person I've known and worked with. And she is still thinking of taking care of others and the animals. So sorry for all of your sadness and fears. Grieving here too.
You extraordinary human... I spent most of the past three years caring for my best friend as she lived through and then died of terminal breast cancer, and I felt deeply the sacrosanct and the sacrilegious nature of that path as I read this post. Thank you for using this place as an outlet, for making it into art, and for letting us see you and ourselves in you.
I am just getting a chance to respond now, though I saw this when you wrote it. Your words...even though you wrote them awhile ago, and they hold me still. Your caring for your friend...yes, I love that...the sacrosanct and the sacrilegious nature of this path. Thank you Morgan.
Oh Joanna, my heart wells up as tears blur your beautifull honest words. You are so present with what life is giving you. My prayers are going up and out and so many others who love you are all sending our own companion Grief hand in hand with Hope that you will have strength you need. You are surviving everyone's worst fears one moment at a time. We are holding space for you and Glen. Even those of us who don't know either of you in person, yet the love and compassion fill us up like springs to overflow in your direction. So much sorrow and yet gratitude for your letting us be part of your journey. The same (though unique) journey we all will or are or have taken. Out of this life into what follows. You are very loved. So is Glen, well loved. Nathalie, from Austin
Oh Nathalie from Austin! I love reading your posts and your comments. I feel you, right next to me, through your words, your care, and your love. You are helping me get through, as you say, one moment at a time. The space you are holding, it is profound to me. Thank you. xoxo
My memory is failing. I “heard” reassurance recently in despair over probable dementia that runs in my family “I created you an exuberant lover of life with your traits that will always be yours. When you have no memory you’ll still be you, present moment to moment, loving people and sharing your wisdom - even when knowledge is gone. As you were at 3 and 9 and 35 and are at 75.” Joanna your loving response is another word from HP to reassure me.
"When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid."
Audre Lorde
Beautiful Nathalie...thank you for these words.
Thank you for this, Jo. Of course, you preserve what you can for Glen to live how he can. You two are courageous, smart, intuitive and loving. You make good decisions in this life. And Margie, I hope she meets A TON of famous people at that eternal party, filled with whimsical animal friends.
Thank you Kate. I hope she meets a ton of famous people at that eternal party too :). I think she will. xoxo
Thank you for sharing with us. I remember your mom and this sounds so much like her- joyful and kind. I keep you in my heart and hope for the best outcome for Glenn, and his drs to work their magic.
Thank you Kristen. So much love to you and your family, and to your dearest mom, who shaped my life so deeply, with her kindness, her artistry, and her generous heart. xoxo
Joanna. words get trapped in the teardrops and I think, how precious words are. How blessed I am to be able to share them in all the ways and understand...most of them, too. And the animals. How your mom talks to them and they talk to her. That mysterious language that may sound like silence to the ears but holds feeling and truth and welcomes all form of communication to those who listen. Your ears, Your Voice, Your Heart, Your Dance, Your Medicine. Right in the middle of the worlds here. I am with Gabrielle --standing in that grove of Aspen as one of the many who joins my roots to the others holding you. In love, witnessing and prayer. In gentleness
A friend said to me the other day, "How are you doing this right now?" and my answer was "I am still standing because of the people around me who are holding and witnessing, who are joining roots. The great love that is pouring our way. It is stunning and sustaining."
Thank you does not come close to the gratitude I feel, but I will say it anyway - thank you Karla. xoxox
I can only reply to this with tears born from the ache in my heart at reading these words. Love and prayers for you both, Joanna. Ongoing
Oh, dearest Jo and dearest Glen -- aspen tree inside, quaking, moved by winds of life, of change. Maybe we could be your forest of aspens, connected by one root system, holding us all around you, bowing, waving, quaking, dancing with the breezes and winds. Grieving, too. I'm with Kate -- more spaces for grief, and all the small and bigger deaths we encounter; however each person's experiencing of grief needs to be. No prescriptions, no expectations, maybe even no narrative: just feeling. just being. Things come and go, and they stay as long as they stay. No timeline for grief, either. Holding you both with tender sad love and heart, and such deep appreciation for who you both are, and for this process each of you is in and you're in together 💓💜
I love your mom's animals and party and turquoise party dress, and how you were with her. Maybe the animals are greeting her, as much as saying goodbye. And, look how much she cared about each one, inviting bear to come closer; wanting the dogs to have all the water they need, and treats, too. Amazing, that that's where her mind -- and heart -- went. May the party be a blast, a beautiful thing.
Hugging, dancing, rooting, being, loving -- in concert with you, Glen, your mom ~
xoxoxo,
Gabrielle
Hmmmmm...."maybe even no narrative: just feeling. just being". Yes.
Oh, and also yes! I think so, that the animals are greeting my mom, as much as they are saying good-bye. I love that. One more yes: maybe the party be a blast, a beautiful thing. I think it will be.
Thank you Gee. My heart to yours.
xoxo
Dear Jo,
I'm thinking of you on this day before Glen's surgery. Thinking how huge it is to sit by the side of those you love, your mom and Glen, as they go through their processes of life and death. I see the way your soft sense of humor, your ability to communicate and your heart continue to open and sing, to be fully with what is unfolding. I love your honesty and courage to share through it all. Huge hugs and love, Delisa
Thank you dearest Delisa. I read this on May 10th, when you wrote it, but am only getting a chance to respond now. But your words, they have stayed with me these past few weeks. Carrried me through until I was able to come back to this thread and say to you, thank you. For your love and your generous spirit. love and love and then more. xooxox
Oh! And ... "Sister help to trim the sails, hallelujah.... The river is deep and the river is wide, hallelujah. Milk and homey [hahaha! ... homey?! ... honey!] on the other side, hallelu-uu-jah."
https://www.google.com/search?q=michael.row+your+boat+ashore+lyrics&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-us&client=safari
Saw this and sang the whole song to her. xoxo
i am blown away ... by hearing only yesterday the tumour had returned, and now about your mother. i am so so sorry. your courage to explore and share this heartbreak reminds me i what a blessing your love has been to them both. hoping that all is going or went as well as it could today. i’ll watch for news with everyone else. ❤️
And what a blessing their love has been, and continues to be, to me. All I feel, truly truly, is lucky right now. Which is weird, I know, but I do. Looking forward to seeing you in September. xoxo
not weird .. but certainly remarkable to be sufficiently attuned to use what’s finite and sad to focus on what’s infinite and beautiful
Give your mom a kiss from me. She was the best person I've known and worked with. And she is still thinking of taking care of others and the animals. So sorry for all of your sadness and fears. Grieving here too.
I gave her so many kisses Mona. So many. She was an extraordinary person. I am so glad you were in her life, and were her friend. xoxo