#SOL18: 3 A.M. (For Rob on the 2nd Anniversary)

Rob and Devon celecbrating Dev's 2md birthday.

As I write this it is nearing 3 a.m. We are buried under the snow tonight. More than two feet fell throughout the day. In the next room, my son is busy making a pot of rice. I can hear the press of his foot against the wooden floor, the rattle he makes each time he lifts the lid off the pot and stirs. Such ordinary sounds are the ones of industry. Earlier he handed me his iPad and showed me a piece of writing he had finished. Strong, clear writing. He is his father's son.

Thirty years ago, Rob and I went to hear Li-Young Lee read. We quickly purchased two volumes of his poetry--books I have kept close throughout our many moves.  I have turned to Young's words for comfort, joy, surprise, and knowledge. His insights so soften startle me. So it isn't so surprising that tonight, although accidental, it was Young's words that were the balm I most needed.

Rob, mid-word. 

"From Blossoms" caught my heart tonight on this anniversary of Rob's death. How two years could have come and gone is more mystery than not. But it has. More lessons than my  hands could possibly hold have come and faded these last two years. From that fog, what emerges most though is the blessing that comes from living deeply during those twenty-eight years.

I'm so grateful now that we didn't muddy living with too much worry about things we could not control. "From Blossoms" is a reminder of that adage: live well, live deeply, live now. It is a sensual feast and against such lushness, Young's closing stanza resonates. He writes,

Rob and I in Maine. Dev took the picture. 

"There are days we live/as if death were nowhere/in the background; from joy/to joy to joy, from wing to wing,/from blossom to blossom to/impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom." 

We lived more days than I could count as if death were nowhere in the background.  Tonight, I'm so grateful for that. These days when I start to feel blue, I remember what it means to live joyfully--to appreciate the ordinary moments that give the most definition to the day by noticing how the scent of rice lingers well after it has been eaten.

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