Jul 9

that relay for life thing is coming up again. dammit melissa, last year you were alive for it. shit. this is just wrong. i’m sorry to be so public with all my curse words, but, fuck, you know, i’m not one NOT to curse. it’s who i am. i curse. and thinking about you being dead when you were alive last year kinda pisses me off. okay, it doesn’t just KINDA, it really fucking pisses me off. okay, it doesn’t piss me off, it makes me incredibly sad, but you know – anger is easier than sadness to deal with. so i’d rather be angry because if i think about the sad then i’m screwed.

the amazing and blessed k has contacted me a few times and i’ve not responded. not because i don’t want to, but because i can’t. i’m a bad bad person melissa. we were in touch during shock, but now i suck. i suck at death. and i’m taking it out on k. i hope she’s 1/2 as forgiving as you are. i’m trying here melissa.

there’s just so much i need to talk to YOU about. there is no substitute for YOU. dammit melissa. come back, please? dammit dammit dammit. i need you to come back. for selfish reasons of course. totally selfish. i need to talk about some big things with YOU. i need to process with YOU.

okay. see, i’ve not forgotten about you. i think about you more than the amazing and blessed k would imagine. i think about you every day. some of those days i get hit upside the head with “fuck. i CAN’T call her. shit. dammit. fuck.” yeah, lots of cus words. because that’s how i run, ya know? you know.

i love you every moment of every day. i always will. please come back. please? i need you. oh, and i bet the amazing and blessed k needs you too.



Apr 14

i googled my father today. i found a blog post written by an old friend of his. i remember going kite flying with mike at smithfield plantation when my brother and i were kids. i remember later my dad talking about how mike was protesting some development going on around blacksburg. dad told me because mike and i shared a similar opinion on the development. dad was proud of his friend for protesting that development. i emailed mike to ask if i could post his words here. he said yes. so, the few visitors that come here – here is the best collection of words to capture the essence of who my father was. i couldn’t have said it better. okay, i could have. i would have put something like “and he loved his daughter the most.” or something like that ;-D. hahahahaha. not only do the following words capture my father best, but it’s also just a beautiful piece of writing by a friend about a beloved friend that has left. so, if you don’t care about my father, but you care about some good writing, read it for that.

* * Celebrating the life of Harry Robertshaw
FRIDAY, MAY 7, 2010 AT 11:02AM
(c) 2010 Michael Abraham

Harry Hull Robertshaw, Ph.D, died a couple of weeks ago. His memorial service is tomorrow in Blacksburg. It is hard for me to piece together the appropriate thoughts about such an interesting, intelligent, and insightful man. To say that Harry was influential in my life is a hopeless understatement. From the day I met him, I have always wanted to be more like Harry.
Read the rest of this entry »

Jan 30

melissa and i met through, what was then, a mutual friend (mf). i met our mf at a heart of now workshop and we just clicked. mf founded the amazing organization, LEAD. i’m not sure when i first met melissa – i’m thinking it may have been knitting. mf, melissa, and i are all knitters, and mf wanted to get together for a knitting circle. i think that’s when i met melissa for the first time. either that or at mf’s birthday party. i have a picture of melissa and i on mf’s couch at that birthday party, and, i’m quite certain it is the only picture of us together. i also have a hat she made. well, melissa didn’t intend for the hat to be a hat, it was supposed to be a purse. she brought it to one of our knitting circles and was talking about how it didn’t come out right, how it seemed to be too small to be a purse. me being who i am, i took it from her and put it on my head. honestly she thought i was being ridiculous – wearing a purse for a hat, but it made for the perfect hat for me. okay, it was a little tight, but through the years that purse hat has stretched and it’s my warmest hat i have. i know it made her smile when is sent her a picture of me wearing her purse hat up at temple fork. i wore it because it’s my best winter hat, and because melissa made it.

so, melissa and i didn’t meet until less than a year before i moved to utah for school. the time we had in eugene together though – well, it cemented this friendship. we went through similar things with mf personally (not professionally). we spent a lot of time just processing what we both experienced because it was nothing like either of us had ever experienced before.

our friendship was one that seemed to be, well, separate sort of. it was this sweet sweet relationship that i had outside of my circle of friends. yes, melissa was a justice seeker, but she did it in other ways than i did.

once i left melissa remained present in my life. i remember going to eugene once and had an evening where i felt kicked out of the friend’s house i was staying at (i wasn’t kicked out, my friend had birth family from the east coast in and she wanted to spend time with them, just her and them). i went to a park feeling sorry for myself, feeling abandoned, feeling rejected. i called mel and she was home and my evening went from feeling dejected to reconnecting with my dear friend. melissa was just who i needed to see in that moment, only i didn’t know it until i called her.

the last time i was in eugene was 2008? i think. it was a long time ago, but melissa stayed present on the phone. she put me on her a-list, so she could talk to me without going over her minutes! i felt honored. sometimes we’d go months without talking, but when we did reconnect it really and truly was one of those moments where no time had passed. other than filling in a few details for context, there we were, her in dexter, me in logan, processing hard stuff, and laughing about the ridiculous. she was my grounding stone.

we tried to find ways to get together. she talked about coming out to logan, about she and her blessed daughter k coming to logan to go camping and playing in the outdoors and hanging with me and my cats. we talked about meeting half-way too. we just couldn’t get it to happen. we still talked on the phone, as much as we could.

in february 2010 i found out that my dad was dying of his cancer. i know that the first person i called in eugene was melissa. i kept it from a lot of others there. i don’t know why, it just felt better that way. melissa was my grounding person, the one i could call with my burdens who i knew i wasn’t adding to already held burdens. there was a seamlessness to our friendship that i can’t describe. during much of my life i didn’t have any friends, then in eugene i found some. i got blessed with my friends sue and jen, and melissa. i don’t love melissa anymore than sue and jen, but what made our friendship was a different recipe than what makes my relationships with sue and jen. i can’t explain it, except that it was seamless, easy, and we knew that we loved each other as much as dear friends can love each other.

so, feb 2010 my dad started his dying process. i think it was march that melissa was diagnosed with stage 1 cancer. that time is a blur, but i remember spending lots of time on the phone with her talking to her about her diagnosis and treatment and my father dying. it was surreal. then dad died, and soon melissa was declared NED. life was going back to what it was, only with her having healed a part of her that hadn’t healed (not physically). it was good for her to go through that stage 1, for the most part.

then october came. and she called and told me she was in the hospital. they got the tumor on her brainstem, but then she faced the news that her team of docs had for her – that she wouldn’t make it to june 2011. stupid doctors, did they not really understand who they were treating? i think it was good they told her that, because then she could prove them wrong. really, idiots. they were dealing with a woman stronger than they could imagine. luckily her beloved main oncologist, dr. garrett, knew who she was dealing with – even though dr. garrett seemed to believe this too. i know that dr. g also knew melissa’s strength.

of course when melissa was diagnosed the first time i questioned her docs. i didn’t do a lot of questioning though, because it was stage 1. my auntie s had dealt with stage 1. compared to my dad’s cancer, stage 1 is nothin’. my questioning changed when she got her stage 4b diagnosis. i questioned who this dr. garrett was. i questioned her abilities. mel knew i was doing this out of love. i wanted melissa to go to sloan kettering, because they’d given dad so much extra time. she didn’t want to travel that far though, she didn’t want to uproot her life, she didn’t want to cause havoc in k’s life. i also told her about huntsman, down in slc. i told her what my blessed friend j said in not so many words – that if mel came to salt lake that i wouldn’t be the only one here to help her. yeah, crazy mormons that i love and adore, willing to offer help to a hippie from dexter who they didn’t even know.

i was reassured about dr. g when i heard that k, who melissa said has an inherent mistrust of doctors, had given dr. g her approval. yeah, yeah, k was only 16, but she is a badass, and i figured if badass k trusted doc g, so would i.

of course melissa plowed right through june 2011. she had what she wanted – a summer with k. they had a good summer, from all i could tell over the phone lines. and, of course, she was pursuing treatments, and i was on the other end of the phone with my computer and my access to articles and my knowledge of tracking things down on the internet. i read about cancer. i talked to people here in logan, i emailed a cancer survivor friend in seattle. i did everything i could to support mel from utah, and she assured me that doing what i was doing meant that i was supporting her. of course, we not only talked about the particulars of cancer, we also talked about the emotional side. unlike my dad, i got to do that with mel. we spoke the same emotional language. we talked about death and dying, about support for k, about k going to college, about financial things and what she was doing to give k as much of a nest egg as possible if she died. she told me about buying a car for k. she told me about her trips to the beach, about going to nyc with k, she made me envious because so many people were surrounding her and she was spending time in parts of oregon that i missed. she was having a great time living it up.

things started going downhill this fall. i waffled a lot on whether to go. i finally realized i suck at death. i’m a chicken shit when it comes to death. i did everything i could to rationalize not going to see her. i stayed on the phone with her, oh yeah, but going to see her? that was too scary. luckily i could tell mel that, what i learned about myself. of course melissa was so understanding and she didn’t get mad at me. she did say she wanted to see me, i did know that, but she wasn’t mad.

i ended up being given a gift by another logan friend. she’d drive with me most of the way to eugene. i’d drop her off in hood river, go down to eugene for 2 days, see mel, and then drive back. we were supposed to go 2 weeks ago, but 2 weeks ago there was ice covering 84 through the gorge (columbia) and snow in utah and idaho. no thanks, especially that damn ice in the gorge.

we spent last week looking at the weather. it was looking good and i knew the trip was going to be a go. we finalized that on friday night (27th). logan friend and i were going on a road trip and i was gonna get to see mel, and JEN! and SUE! and eat tofu pate and go to my favorite used bookstore. i was gonna get to hold her hand, and look into her eyes, and she was gonna be patient with me as i told her how much i loved her. and i was gonna respect her boundaries and only tell her i loved her a few times, because, as she put it on the phone, she got it. i was packed, ready to go, and then the 1.34 call came. the trip was cancelled.

it’s monday. i have a dissertation to write, but that feels overwhelming. i emailed k and told her about a financial commitment i was making to her education. i told her how much her mother loved her. i told her what melissa told me, that she was the greatest gift that melissa ever got. i didn’t know how she’d respond, because, really, k doesn’t know me very well. i’m this friend from far away who doesn’t know the rest of mel’s circle.

now it was k’s turn to reassure me. k responded. she told me she knew how much i love(d) her mother. she told me her mother told her that i’d be there to support her, and that my email proved it. k really is a piece of her mother. k really is her mother’s daughter. k wants to stay in touch, and she accepted my financial offer for her future education. i need to respond to her email and let her know how much it means she wants to stay in touch, but i don’t want to sound needy. i need to be the adult. it just means so much to me that k will let me be a part of the circle that melissa set out to create to support k when melissa was gone. she was purposeful about this circle. she needed to know that there was going to be a circle of women that would be there for k. i told melissa i’d do anything i could. i told melissa that k was already in my will and would be until the day i die. i don’t know how much $ k will get when i die (not planning to anytime soon), but every dollar helps. including k in my will, doing what i can, and what k will let me, to support k is my way of honoring my sister-friend. this time the tables are turned – i’m a friend of the parent who has passed away, instead of the child of the parent. maybe i can offer things to k that friends of my father can offer me (even though i was 20 years older than k is now when my father died). mel and i were dear friends for a reason, we’re a lot a like, and i’ll do what i can to keep the side of melissa i knew alive for her daughter. it’s an honor to be able to hold that, and i don’t take the responsibility lightly.

i miss you melissa. i love you melissa. now i’ve done what i can to write the story of our friendship. i know there’s more, there’s always more, but i can’t remember it all, and to really have it written down, you’d have to write your story. you can’t, so, we’ll have to accept what we have. right? it’s about acceptance, as much as we hate acceptance sometimes, we really gotta accept so we can move forward.. not so we can move on, but so we can move forward while keeping the past close to our hearts.

Jan 29

She left peacefully in her sleep Saturday night. I didn’t make it to say good-bye in person. Please keep my sister-friend Melissa’s daughter K in your prayers.

I love you Melissa. Thank you for being my friend.

Jan 20

they are verbs, ala erin & vickie. i figured i should put something here because it’s been 9 days! since i put something here.

the last 9 days have been a haze. i’m busy, really busy. all day monday is science ed class that i’m ta-ing in. tuesdays and thursdays are 7.30-8.20am tae kwan do and then 2.30-3.20pm tai chi. wednesdays are stats days all day. thursdays at 3.30 are another meeting. friday 9.30-10.30 is meeting with my favorite professor to write and research. in between is running stats for some really cool special ed work, mentoring a wonderful doc student, letting my brain take a break, writing my dissertation, reading articles for various things, and trying to get some job apps done. i call this “practicing to be a faculty member.” i’m building my stamina. i’m learning how to use coffee more effectively, and sunflower seeds, and carrots, chocolate, pasta cups, applesauce, and water too.

i’m buying technology like it’s going out of style. that’s what i seem to spend the weekends doing. or the weekdays.. yesterday it was an e-book reader. or, as i like to call it, a pdf reader that is less cumbersome than my computer. i think i like it, but it doesn’t have the smell that books have.. but, when i’m going to work with someone on stats at their house, lugging 50lbs of books around isn’t fun. hopefully this e-book reader will also become my stats library. i’m sad that the big red book – the psychometrics book that gives me some stats street cred – isn’t electronic. it’s a badass book. i’m also sad that i can’t find the HUGE non-parametric/parametric book either. those 2 books are really heavy. to be able to have them on the e-reader, which fits nicely in my pocketbook, would be nice.

on sunday i’m going to oregon. it’ll be a really quick trip. driving sunday, 2 days, driving back. i called my friend and told her i couldn’t wait to see her but i hated the reason i’m going. i’m driving to oregon, with the help of a blessed friend who will be dropped off in the gorge, the last major stop before pdx. it will be nice to have her for the hardest part of the drive, as well as the majority of it. i have errands to do in eugene. i need to bring home tofu pate, yumm! sauce, and books from my favorite used bookstore. i also need to bring home hugs and more recent minds-eye images of a few particular loved ones. most importantly i’ll be leaving a part of me there. *sigh*

death, again. i think this is a good-bye trip. i really fucking hate good-bye trips. i can’t believe this is the second fucking one during this process. stop. just stop. dying. actually, it’s the third one – because visiting my grandfather on 27 december 2009 with my father – i knew i’d never see him alive again. he was 93, not 53, and ready to die, not trying to live long enough to see a daughter graduate from high school.

i know, all this sounds depressing. in between it all i AM learning that i love doing research. i love being in academia. i’m getting to practice being a faculty member not only with everything going on, but with an office as well. i’m not paid, but i’ve been blessed with a really nice office that has a HUGE window. the window overlooks the atrium in the building and people on the other side of the atrium can see right in, but i don’t care. i am also on the top floor and so the glass ceiling lets in even more natural light. it’s letting me get work done, and feel professional, and forget that i’m not being paid.

i’m also getting to do a guest post over on another blog. i’m excited about that. i get to talk about faith issues. i’m a little nervous, but it’s a blog post, but i want it to be good, and the blog, well – it’s someone well known in the faith world.. or at least pretty well known.. at least among the presby usa church. i wonder if he knows i’m episcopalian now? hmm. i should let him know. hahahahaha. i don’t think he’ll mind, bruce reyes-chow is a good guy. i like the way he thinks, i like the way he writes. it’s too bad he left his church and isn’t a pastor anymore, because i know he was a good one. i met him through social media, social media i’m no longer participating in. if you go read his blog, his past posts, i’m sure you’ll like him too. (vickie – you know he was the previous moderator of GA for the PCUSA, right?)

okay. read, write, eat, mentor, clean. that’s what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day.

Jan 10

I got up at 6.30. I made it to Tae Kwan Do class at 7.30. Whoo hoo! I’m not a morning person, but I need to move my body, and Tae Kwan Do is a way of moving my body that I am used to. I am also signed up for a Tai Chi class at 2.30. Maybe that’ll be too much for Tues and Thurs. We’ll see. I’ve also bought a coffee maker for my office. That’s the only way I’m going to pull off everything I need to pull off this semester.

Today is a pain though, because I have a meeting off campus at 12.30. Then another meeting at 4. I’ll survive. I hope.

Now I need to write another cover letter. I’d better get used to it. *sigh* Hopefully it’ll get easier.

Did I mention that I miss my Dad? I miss him so much that I have my office set up so that I can see him at all times. Is that weird? Probably not.

Okay, enough stalling. I have 2 hours to get a draft of this done.


Jan 5

my sister-friend is dying. i know i’ve talked about this before. it’s actually official though. she’s dying. i talked to her yesterday, and she sounded pretty good. she’s exhausted though. of course, dying is a difficult task. dying while still parenting is an even more difficult task. dying while still parenting an 18 year old is a task of enormous [insert forgotten word here].

a friend or so of hers there is concerned she’s loosing her mental capacity. i can say for sure that she’s not. in my conversation with her last night she lectured me about taking care of myself, and then she tracked my sarcasm. her lecturing me is pure her. her tracking my sarcasm across a bad cell-phone connection is really good even when you aren’t dying.

we talked about things that i know about. like – her medical power of attorney. it should not be her daughter – luckily she knows that. luckily she has a friend who is a nurse and it sounds like that is who she is going ask to do that. that friend will know when my dear has lost her mental capacity and when decisions need to be taken from my dear’s hands. knowing my friend, it’s not going to be until the last few days really. she’s one tough chick and is going to go down fighting to keep her mental capacity until the last possible moment.

i am going to go. i keep talking about how i’m probably going to fly or take a train. i think how i’m going to get myself there is going to be driving. just packing and going. i can’t plan in advance really. i suck at it. it’s a long drive, but if that’s what will get me there, then that’s how i’m going to do it. i need to get my car checked out first.

there’s more to this unfolding story. the duh part is i wish it weren’t happening. i love her. oh and apparently i drive her nuts in my messages.. i’ve been leaving minute long messages full of “i love you. oh yeah, hey – i love you. bye. oh wait – i love you, did you know that? now really, bye. oh wait – guess what?!? i love you.” she said she’s been rolling her eyes at those but does appreciate the sentiment behind it. my friend speaks emotions, yeah! we can have honest conversations about dying, yeah! i can tell her i think it sucks, yeah! i can ask her bluntly – so, are you dying? yeah! i can have all sorts of conversations and express all sorts of feelings that were never really allowed around my father’s dying. my dear is an emotional processor like me. we talk, we get to the nitty gritty, we look at the ugly, the unpleasant, the fears, the failures. we turn it over, turn it upside down, we twirl it in our hands. we get to know it’s textures, and how it looks from every possible angle. we find the joy, and the good. i get to tell her her daughter is a badass. i get to tell her she’s a badass. i get to tell her that this sucks, but that she’s doing an amazing job in light of it. i get to tell her my failures, that i suck at this, that i am afraid of it, that i’m keeping my physical distance so i don’t have to face it, really face it. then i get to hear her tell me to not be so hard on myself. i get to hear her lecture me. i get to hear my dying friend doing what she’s fought all her life to be able to do – to be able to find healing and take care of others. i think she’s finding it, i know she’s been finding it. i’m grateful she’s found it before the end so that she could lecture me on finding it for myself.

Dec 22

i found literature that will bridge the qual and the quant sections of my dissertation, for which I am thrilled!

i get to have a very Mormon christmas with my favorite people in Logan. i kept seeing things on clearance and on sale and so i ended up buying waaaay to many gifts for them, but i just adore those 4 children and their parents and i just want to see them happy. their mama already knows what her present is as well as their papa. they are both happy about their gifts, though i think i feel inspired to get mama, who is pregnant, one last thing that she really wants.

i’m starting to see that i may actually like a job in academia. the puzzles i’m constantly presented with are fun to solve, and becoming more adept at stats is exciting. i got to have a great conversation with the research director of our center for persons with disabilities yesterday, at the local outdoors store. it was super geeky fun! plus he’s such a good guy and so encouraging of me. to have someone like that, as well as my mentor in the stats office, say such nice things about me is helpful these days.

i’m sorry about the dark humor that came out in my previous post. i just really miss my father, a lot. grief is weird. i emailed the amazing vickie who told me, in a nutshell, that i should embrace the uncertainty of it. oh my. if only you reader could hear the sarcasm attached to my reaction of embracing uncertainty. i don’t. i avoid it. a lot. a lot. a.lot. vickie is kind and wise though. i should listen to her. she’s also big into being gentle with myself. that’s another hard one. i look up to her though, so i really should listen to her, of all people. (we should all listen to vickie, she’s got a lot of wisdom in that geeky-soccer playing- chess coaching – professoring head of hers).

oh, and on saturday i may just take the snow shoes i bought on sale yesterday up to temple fork. i’m worried about the potential snowy drive, but a lot of people are driving to our local downhill ski spot, which is past temple fork, so the road should be okay. temple fork is gorgeous and it would make me smile to be there. then, come home, take a nap and go to midnight services.

sunday is a celebration. He is coming. i need to hold on to that more often. he IS coming. that’s what i love about my favorite hymn. when i sing it i feel like i’m singing out to Him, reminding Him that he is coming back, reminding myself of His grace. reminding myself that dad and i will be reunited, hand in hand, once again. that dad believed that. that peace will reign. that all that is broken will be whole.

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o’er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
In ancient times did’st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
and His kingdom will have no end.” (from the Nicene Creed as it is in The Book of Common Prayer of the Episcopal Church (notice, I don’t stress the judging part, I don’t like it)).

Dec 20

yesterday i, very unexpectedly, got a second half of the money my dad left me. it’s not a lot of money, but in these days of no funding and living off savings, every bit helps. still, though, it kinda feels like he’s trying to buy me off from the grave.

i have a picture of my dad and i on my desk in my office. it sits at an angle that it’s hard not to miss my glance as i move towards my desk. my comment this morning? “jesus fuck dad, do you really think $xxxxxxxxxxxxx is going to buy me off, make this whole dead thing okay?” *sigh*

seriously, that man was freakishly smart, but this is one area where he’s not being so smart in. he really cannot buy me off like this. there’s not a single dollar amount that will make this death thing okay. it’s absolutely ridiculous that he thinks this way.


in other news, i’m still plugging away at the dissertation. i was grounded over the weekend with a migraine, a bad one, but i still managed to look up some articles i need. no, i didn’t read them, but i found them. today’s task is to read them, and put them in my literature review, and then use them in my methodologies.  i really want next semester to be the final semester of this damn degree. i’m absolutely sick of it.

Dec 1

(this is x-posted at red room)

that’s a good picture. not only does it show him happy, but if you look in his hand and notice the blow torch, it also shows him with his favorite fireworks lighting instrument.

dad the engineer. dad the dad. dad my dad, a little, or in the eyes of some, a lot, on the crazy side. freakishly smart and a pain in the ass, but we loved each other. i loved my hand in his.

2 birthdays later and i wonder how long do i note it? he would have been 69 this year, on the 5th of december. it’s not significant, but it’s significant that we’ll have seen this second birthday come and go since he left. soon, 11 days before, god willing, inshallah, i graduate with my phd, it will be 2 years since he left.

that’s a long time? i think so. it’s also been disturbingly short. the first 14 months or so after 24 april 2010 i was in shock. i lost, i believe, a total of 18 months to this dissertation process. 14 months or so after he left i started to have those moments – OH! I NEED TO TELL DAD!. shit. i can’t. they haven’t stopped. i’ve already told a committee member – when i can get my rear in gear and finish this god awful dissertation writing – that i’m likely to cry during or after the defense because of dad. because i can’t tell him the deed is done. finally.

 i know, everyone goes through it. or goes through something similar when someone particularly close leaves. i know these thoughts are so far from original that they are practically, or most likely, or yeah, cliche. the thing is, this is my loss. i don’t care that i’m repeating these thoughts. i’m choosing to be selfish, repetitive, and cliche.

this spring the water was high here in logan. i’d go for a walk along the logan river and i could hear the water roaring down the dam. dad would have loved it. loved it. loved it. he would have looked at the dam and talked about running it (he wouldn’t, he would have just imagined). we would have dissected the not-going-to-happen run together. so, i’d stop and take pictures for him.

i’d take pictures so he could see it. i know, irrational, but grief causes strange things to happen in a sort of rational mind, at least in this sort of rational mind. so, these are for you dad. first, the dam, second dam, this spring. can you see the run? you can’t see it in this photo, but on river left there’s a break in the weir at the bottom.

and this, less exciting, but in my opinion, far more beautiful. it’s at hyrum dam dad. paddling up the river in my stubby, i got out and took photos. can you believe i took it with my fruity phone? i should actually print it and frame it. not that i think my photographs are ever particularly stunning, but this one, kinda blew me away.

oh and one last one. that quote “if there is magic on this planet it is contained in water” by eisley.. i took this one to try to capture that.. it doesn’t do it justice.. maybe the one above does that quote more justice.. let me know what you think if you get a chance. love you.

« Previous Entries