We have been here a week—feels like much, much longer. The rains kept us from going straight to Big Sur as we had planned, but that turned out to be a good thing. We were made to live inside the moments we found ourselves in. We did things we hadn’t planned to do: see Malibu and Beverly Hills and Santa Barbara and Miles-and-Jack country.
..and just a flutter of, like a nutty Edam cheese
Spirit Bear for Caitlin and for Gary Richardson
Strange, small-world, meaningful fact: our wonderful neighbors from Pittsburgh, Mary and Ralph, actually own a place just down the beach from where we stayed in Santa Monica. All this time, when they would go to CA, I thought they were somewhere else. (Never having been here, I didn’t have much of a map in my head.)
So we got to visit with them a bit. And that was surreal and healing and very, very good. They are kind friends who will always be in our lives.
Another Pittsburgh–now life–friend, the wonderful writer and soul, Jane McCafferty, has been so supportive with her words and thoughts and the other day wrote, “If you have a favorite saint, or a connection to Jesus, try calling on that now— in my experience this can be real medicine.”
I liked that advice and realized I’d already taken, like Caitlin, the stoic Mary as my own. At the last minute, I had packed the tiny glow-in-the-dark Vierge Marie that I purchased at Chartres when I visited there with Caitlin in 2004. After another 2am bad dream last night, I’ve decided I’m going to keep her glowing figure on my bedside table from now on.
I have a feeling that the real Mary would not have taken herself too seriously, and thus wouldn’t mind this version of herself.
Light inside darkness is always a good thing.
La Vierge Marie
As soon as we arrived here last week, I realized I had to buy a stronger chain for Caitlin’s bird ring. I didn’t trust the one I had, but I did trust that I would find the right thing at some point, and as Nick and I were walking up the main street in Santa Barbara the other day, I glimpsed a store that looked to be full of necklace chains. Nick walked in and bee-lined straight to the perfect one. The right length, the right color. “Look up,” he said.
I began to see her everywhere, of course. Even in the most unlikely places.
And also in very likely, lovely places, like this stunning stucco church in Santa Barbara called Our Lady of Mount Carmel.
St Francis and his birds and Mary
Mary and 65 Roses
She is everywhere, once you know to look.
Beautiful song sent by Jane.