Another voyage to Raccoon Cove, to the blasted berm of Marlboro Beach, with a blustery, dyspeptic sky.
The damned, soulless NWS tried to throw a pall of dread over the Mission, with dire-eyed and woeful warnings of rain, melees, and worse.
So much so that the Fey contingent of the crew was rendered atwitter, and nervered, and refused to Deep-Sky Fly. But that's Faeries for you. Obstinate. Swhy Last Mate Squeaky fits in with them so well.
But other crew took up the slack, it was a successful voyage, and none were lost.
No scurvy. No damnable Belgians or French Papists encountered.
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The last standing Old Guard Flowerchild, stands no more
It would seem, I am forced to admit, that I didn't take her death very well.
I feel chagrin at that, as technically a man, who ought take all emotional crushings with aplomb, and a refusal to let anything get the best of one.
My father, who left us partly out of disgust for the way she was raising me, saw the degree of pussydom already written on my forehead back then, and would probably enjoy disapproving of me even more, to see the sucking chest wound which I've crawled off into the woods to try and heal.
But I was raised by a nearly purely Emotional being, and so perhaps its appropriate that my own, nearly purely Emotional self was brought to his knees by the suddenness and unfairness of her taking, after the decades in which she was treated by the Universe unfairly, and terribly cruelly, over and over... but especially after finally giving her hope for a better quality of life, less endless physical and emotional pain, just before switching her off like a flickering lightbulb.
We were very close. We were mistaken for siblings when I was in my early twenties. She had me when she was 18 and still a child in many ways. She always was a child in many very special ways. Definitely a big part of my proto-understanding of how emotionally -literally- many of those with an "inner child" can experience her.
And the most accepting, gentle, nurturing person, to anyone smart enough to let her Love them, not just to me, that I've ever known of.
She had gotten better, we'd finally, after decades of her desperately needing it but too afraid to ever get it, gotten her to someone who'd boldly addressed a couple of the things that contributed hugely to her being in terrible emotional and physical pain most of the time for the last 20 years. As I wrote about.
She tasted a drastic improvement in her quality of life -- and then God decided to reach out and grasp her heart, and squeeze it until it just stopped, between one step and another, and she laid down and died as if her battery had just run out, with no signs of any heart problems seen by any of the medical people that saw her constantly because of her other problems.
Agony from 5 degenerated discs leaving her spine unprotected. The agony of terrible PTSD from the unspeakable childhood abuse she suffered, that left her writhing and screaming for help, hour after hour, as she re-lived being raped and tortured from the age of 6 on, as the meds for her spinal pain eroded her mind and took her for long-night adventures back to re-live it all, every night.
Things like that.
Between one step and the other, on an ordinary sunny day, everything she ever thought and felt, a huge long rich life that is the entire Universe within each of our heads, everything that makes us feel like us... went from being a person, to being nothing at all, nonexistent as if she never did exist.
And God took her from a relationship that was one of the most profound Love stories I've ever heard, my stepfather and her were together 24/7/365 for almost 30 years, both as writers at home. They adored each other with wet eyes every single day, every time I ever saw them, they were symbiotic in almost every part of their lives.
And they lived their own version of an Alternative relationship. They had *that* profundity between them, as some of you know it, which is an entire other added relationship between you, side-by-side with your marriage, having your wife and child rolled into the same person, doubling the emotional agony when it's snatched away from you, rending your world -- as it will, absolutely, be rended or ended, for each of us.
And so I got to experience in very near and dear detail, from moments after God chose to stop her heart out of the blue, after choosing to put her in terrible physical and emotional pain most of her life, how it is to be so profoundly Merged and Connected with the Love of your life, as Jeri and I both feel we are, with a depth of happiness we don't observe in other marriages -- and then to have that symbiotic other person simply cease to exist, between one step and another, with no warning, no final hug, no last touch of hands, not even time to exchange the look you always exchange to sum it all up between you, that simple look in both your eyes that takes a half-second to silently say, "Me too."
Your everything, your world, just simply ceases to exist, between one step and another, as you're on your way out the door on a perfectly ordinary sunny Spring morning.
Her last words were "It's good to feel the sun on my face again." She'd been bedridden in spinal pain for a week. And then she just dropped dead.
And so I have been weak enough to be utterly crushed twice from the same event. My mother and I were very close, I had a distant and emotionally constipated father (shocker), and an utter Empath flowerchild mother, and so she set about trying to raise me to be her daughter, until Nature intervened anyway, and it was she and me against the world for my early childhood, learning about the world around us together, a child and a womanchild raising each other, as she would later describe it, in her own words.
Losing her suddenly with no chance to say goodbye, or any sign of it coming, was a sucking chest wound for me.
And watching my stepfather have her taken, has put my arms desperately around Squeaky, and felt like another sucking chest wound from the level of appall and near panic that the thought of either of us losing the other like that, on an ordinary sunny day, on the way out the door, and then the next moment either of us is alone in the world again... has been more than I could process.
My processor has been overloaded, overclocked and overwhelmed, for I'm largely, despite the magic potions of Nature which partially thwarted my mother's subconscious desire to have a daughter instead of another male, when all but one (my stepfather, the Hobbit) of the males in her life had abused and abandoned her... despite that, I'm a pretty purely emotional being myself -- which is something I wouldn't change, but it brings the Intensities of Life so close to the surface that sometimes the Poignance of simply *existing* is so painful, I wonder anew at the strength and loveliness of females who experience this so much more fully than most of the rest of us do.
But its time to crawl back out of the woods, like an animal that crawled there to heal alone, which is my instinct when I Hurt overwhelmingly.
She would want me to celebrate all that I learned from her, by moving forward to again wallow in the gorgeousness of the Emotionally-Real Innerkid, and do what little I can for any that feel these things.
I apologize for having to crawl off into the woods to curl up and try to heal, but I did have to. However, she adored this Island, was moved to tears when she'd check in and see you lovely and special people, so the best honor I can think of for her is to do what little I can in this little world of hours.
We have an Island. And it is Springtime.
Remember to notice how nice the sun feels on your face, Chirrens.