If I don’t put down my thoughts, do they go away?

Maybe, who knows?

But why not, if you get tired, take a day off.

(I promise to do the same)

I find my mind racing constantly; maybe it’s one of the unknown levels of grief, or a refocusing of the energy that would otherwise funnel into grief. (I’d rather have the fun myself)

Maybe I just like to hear myself think?

For years the ideas have been bouncing around inside, it’s not like a head will explode, I think they eventually melt into other thoughts that are also bouncing around.

In the earlier days, I think I tried to control some of it, just a bit, at society’s request.

(I had a job review a week after Nick was born in 1980. My boss at the time said that he was hoping that being a parent might finally cause a maturity that he had hoped for in hiring me, but had not seen.  Guess again, asshat!)

One of the ideas that made Buddhism appealing to me was the premise that we should never lose that ‘childlike’ wonder at the things we see and experience each and every day.  (I certainly have run with that one)

(WARNING: DEEPLY PERSONAL STUFF AHEAD)

As the realization of the shortness of time came to us, Jackie and I had a lot of deep personal discussions.

Once she asked me what I was going to do when she was gone.

I told her that I intended to use our remaining time to squeeze all of the love, and Jackie-ness out of her, so that I’d have it inside always, to carry forever.

But her being the ever practical Jackie, the week before the end, we were sitting on the couch, just the two of us, and she told me she wanted me to promise her one thing.

(Since she shared my life, she was well aware of the depression that haunted me through the recent years.

Post 9/11, post Dottie, the uncertainty of the contracting years.)

She made me promise to “go on living after I’m gone”.

She knew how easy it was for me to dig myself deeper into the basement room the longer I was allowed to stay there.

Of course I promised her, who could say no to Jackie.

And of course, the practical side of her did manage to ‘warn’ her siblings to “keep an eye on him, don’t let him get too crazy”.

(OK, NOW BACK TO JUST NORMAL PERSONAL STUFF)

Jackie had a way of focusing the wild, and frantic thoughts that live in here with me.

She wasn’t restrictive, or constraining.

It was like if you had a string, (say a long guitar string), that was just vibrating rapidly, randomly, willy nilly.

(and you all remember willy nilly, the illegitimate offspring of that red haired country singer, and those dreadlocked lip sync-ers of the 80’s)

If you hold two fingers on either side of that vibrating string, one finger an inch above, one an inch below, you don’t stop the vibration, you just keep it within the normal hearing range of the average, functioning adult.

She was the rock, of the family, and all who knew her.

So often that rock could focus my thoughts with that look, and the simple “Reallly?” that she would use only when necessary.

That rock has shifted over the last several months.

At times it’s been the shallow depression, to catch and hold my tears.

It’s been rounded, and rugged, to deflect the strange, out of control feelings.

At least for now, it’s become a very smooth, very shiny, concave surface, to gather the random, wild thoughts, and concentrate them, to allow them that much more power to go farther, and be stronger.

Thanks Jackie, for always being here.

And a special shout out to the ebel family…

Thanks for the use of your wonderful sister!

I didn’t sleep much last night at all,

The head was spinning, there’s so much going on.

(remember the Disney vacation ad from several years ago, the little boy the night before the trip, "i'm too excited to sleep!")

Jackie and I had a long talk last night,

She’s very happy with the progress, and direction!