If the river can bend
Part two
This is part two of my series If the River Can Bend. I wrote this original essay after a stay at the Marriott Marquis between Mission and Market Streets in downtown San Francisco on the weekend of the Women's March of 2020, a few years after Carrie's passing. I have edited and condensed the essay for this series, and I’ve continued to add Elton’s verse in the centered quotes.
San Francisco natives, Rick and I enjoy evenings in the city. As we walk the two blocks from our hotel to the quaint Mexican restaurant, we are oblivious that Market Street will be filled with thousands of women (and men as well) by morning celebrating the Women's March in San Francisco1.
We can feel the hint of electricity filling the air, easy enough to attach to the fact that we are excited to catch up with our friend Paul at dinner. It's been a few years since Carrie's passing. In addition to seeing Paul at Carrie’s celebration of life, he also graced us with a visit to our home approximately six months afterward.
We spent that visit tattered and torn, hopeful that Paul felt safe and warm. We discussed his life, his children's lives, and his future plans. We left him with time to read on the deck or to take a hike, and, of course, we centered our discussions around delicious food.
Come and embrace the struggle
But win or lose we live here
Build a new beginning on an old rock
Breathe deep of the sweet fresh air
Rick and I arrive at the restaurant a few minutes early. We are seated at our table, anticipating Paul's arrival.
Paul texts, "We will be a bit late. Lots of traffic."
My eyes stop at the word "we." I’m not worried about the traffic.
Paul is a we?
Rick measures the dark energy collecting beneath my brow and asks me if I will be okay. I mutter under my breath.
I'll be fine.
My declaration needs to convince both of us. Rick shares what can only be offered through the shape of his heart, his sweet smile, and his reassuring touch.
I order a glass of wine.
I've been known to have issues after a loved one has passed, with the person left behind choosing a new partner.
Full disclosure? I failed miserably with Chuck’s new partner after my beloved Julie passed. You can learn more about Julie in this prior post. Chuck was “Julie’s Chuck” in my heart. There was no room for another woman. In the end, I understood that my lack of acceptance had far more to do with my denial that Julie was gone than it ever had to do with the woman Chuck chose to spend time with. She was actually a dear woman.
Somewhere in the heavens, Chuck and Julie still laugh at my foolishness and love me for caring so deeply. We all have our lessons to learn.
Minutes later, Paul and his new friend Lisa sit across the table. Lisa is like a cardinal bringing a new magic.
I don't know where we go
I sure feel there's something out there
There's a great awakening and a new morning
And your spirit's pounding loud and clear
We have an hour and a half to share as they have another stop on their way home. Conversation makes it clear to me that they are more than a passing thing. I try on the idea as I half listen to their conversation and instead watch their body language and eye contact. Paul has a glint in his eye again. It's good to see. Lisa couldn't be more lovely. She quells my discomfort, invites my attention, and so much more.
Back in our hotel room after we part ways, the energy of women collects in the streets below. Rick has dozed off. He's entitled to a sweet slumber after looking out for me throughout the evening. I'm happy to sit quietly playing Solitaire on the computer, talking with my friend. The tears arrive; they aren't torrents, but a gentle release that feels good.
You'd love her, Carrie. She reminds me of you in the nicest of ways, her gentle spirit and love of the arts. I can envision her as a friend.
Carrie raises a glass to me. Chuck and Julie are dancing (above). The three of them rejoice.
"That's our girl. She's learning that letting go on earth has no effect on what's waiting in the ever after."
Part three will arrive next week, but likely a few days late, as I have commitments that will preclude writing for several days. I hope you are enjoying the series as much as I am writing it.
If this series speaks to you, I would appreciate your support in the form of a like, comment, restack, and/or free or paid subscription. You can even treat me to a coffee …
From the Women's March mission statement—
We support the advocacy and movements that reflect our multiple and intersecting identities. We call on all defenders of human rights to join us. This march is the first step towards unifying our communities, grounded in new relationships, to create change from the grassroots level up. We work peacefully while recognizing there is no true peace without justice and equity for all.
I love this part of the story. I remember so clearly when my Ron was dying him telling me I want you to promise that in time you will find someone else to love. You’re too young to be alone. I said I couldn’t promise. He smiled at me and said I will send you someone. Fast forward two years later. My son’s girlfriend at the time kept saying I want you to meet my dad. I told her I didn’t want to meet her dad or anyone else’s dad. A few weeks later she invited me to her birthday celebration and I meet Mel. His beautiful eyes, kind spirit and easy nature drew me in. Two years after our first date we were married and will celebrate 27 years this month. Ron’s mother Jo loved Mel and he her.. It was sign that Ron had put Mel in my path. I remember thinking that Ron would tell is clients that life is for the living.
I love that you still converse with friends no longer in this realm. 💞🙏💞