I have added more doors to this slide show since the last time.
Enjoy!
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Final Curtain
Death has an audience with hecklers and fans.
I have never been a witness to uncinematic death and there I was in line for a bullfight with my ticket in one hand and a beer in the other.
I never realized how much a body changes once life inside it has gone.
It leaves deep long marks in the earth as it's slowly dragged away.
The bullfight lasted 2 hours. After the first fight John asked me if I wanted to stay.
I noticed two young girls seated behind us gathering their belongings. Both were in tears.
I don't know why I chose to stay. Perhaps there was still something I needed to learn about the fact of dying.
Four years ago a nurse pulled a curtain around my grandfather's death bed. His struggle to hold on to this world lasted several hours. On the other side of the curtain I turned the pages of a photo album for Mimi. Her dementia was so, the few pages were endless. Over and over each picture was brand new for her. Her own curtain had been put up years before.
At that time, the only words I could remember of the Hail Mary were, "now and at the hour of our death, Amen."
Repeating them over and over while turning each page only seemed to intensify the situation.
Sadly, I can't say if I have prayed a Hail Mary since then.
But as I watched them drag this dead bull out of the ring, I found myself repeating those same words.
Now and at the hour of our death , Amen.
Now and at the hour of our death, Amen.
Still unable to remember all the words of the prayer.
Those trailing marks so deep in the sand will be forever etched in my mind.
I am uncertain what lesson I learned sitting through the entire bullfight.
What exactly did I need to prove?
As I download my photos, I think about the many types of curtains.
The ones that shield and protect us.
I have never been a witness to uncinematic death and there I was in line for a bullfight with my ticket in one hand and a beer in the other.
I never realized how much a body changes once life inside it has gone.
It leaves deep long marks in the earth as it's slowly dragged away.
The bullfight lasted 2 hours. After the first fight John asked me if I wanted to stay.
I noticed two young girls seated behind us gathering their belongings. Both were in tears.
I don't know why I chose to stay. Perhaps there was still something I needed to learn about the fact of dying.
Four years ago a nurse pulled a curtain around my grandfather's death bed. His struggle to hold on to this world lasted several hours. On the other side of the curtain I turned the pages of a photo album for Mimi. Her dementia was so, the few pages were endless. Over and over each picture was brand new for her. Her own curtain had been put up years before.
At that time, the only words I could remember of the Hail Mary were, "now and at the hour of our death, Amen."
Repeating them over and over while turning each page only seemed to intensify the situation.
Sadly, I can't say if I have prayed a Hail Mary since then.
But as I watched them drag this dead bull out of the ring, I found myself repeating those same words.
Now and at the hour of our death , Amen.
Now and at the hour of our death, Amen.
Still unable to remember all the words of the prayer.
Those trailing marks so deep in the sand will be forever etched in my mind.
I am uncertain what lesson I learned sitting through the entire bullfight.
What exactly did I need to prove?
As I download my photos, I think about the many types of curtains.
The ones that shield and protect us.
The ones on those games shows revealing the new washer and dryer or random kitchen appliance.
I also think about all the different times when we choose to open or close these curtains.
I then sit quietly at my computer and begin to pray a Hail Mary and this time all the words come back to me.
Timeless Characters
Goya's cast of characters still haunt the many streets of Madrid.
A boisterous dwarf screams at us as we pass with our non- Spanish ears.
A disfigured woman waves hands from where shoulders should be.
Milky eyed beggars on corners and stairs parading missing limbs, teeth, and dreams.
They remain forever painted in this city's noisy composition oblivious to Goya's silent spirit.
But how oblivious are they?
I wonder.............
Thursday, April 17, 2008
La Dolce Vita
Three years ago today we said I do.We were married at the Palazzo Zenobio in Venice. After we said our vows we ate white candied covered almonds. This is a very symbolic Italian tradition.
The color white is said to represent purity and the sugar coating is symbolic of sweetness. When combined with the bitterness of the almond the confection represents the sweet and the bitter sides of marriage. Before this time my palate knew only of bitterness. This sugary sweetness was foreign to my tongue. Since then I have developed an addiction to sugar. My body knows no less. We live the Dolce Vita-The Sweet Life.
I am truly blessed.
You can see more photos from our special day by clicking on this link.http://www.davenezia.it/wedding_in_venice/Photogallery.htm Look under "all" and then John and Mary Beth Crane. You can see all the photos by clicking on the one photo.We are going to Madrid for our anniversary and won't be back until Tuesday. I am all too excited. There is a Goya exhibit at the Prado of 200 works never seen by the public. The tulip painting will just have to wait.......
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
A Day In France
Today was a special day. It was my dear friend, Katherine's birthday. We drove to France to shop for pottery and have French onion soup.
How wonderful to go to France for a day!
Katherine and I met 3 years ago. She and I had just arrived in Germany.
We met during a jazzercise class.
I remember being so nervous the first day I decided to join this jazzercise class. I took a place in the back so I wouldn't be so obvious. I had no clue what I was doing. The bad part was there was a big mirror in the front and you could still see the blonde in the back with the big soccer legs straggling about.
I had noticed a woman in the front who knew all the moves. She moved with a confident grace. After class I approached her and asked her if she had a background in dance.
I thank the day that my insecurity led me to question her ability. Because of my knees, I no longer jazzercise, but our friendship continues to dance.
I am proud to be her friend.
My Mimi always used to say," Show me who your friends are and I will show you who you are."
Growing up I was always afraid to show her my friends.
Since I am older, my friends are better reflections.
I wish Katherine could have met Mimi.
I am not too worried, for I know she will meet her someday.
Somewhere, someday
where we all can dance again.
Forever.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
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