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Find Your Grail

This is a big week for our family — and for you, dear Tribe, those of you who have embarked on this journey with us.

As we get closer to Thursday, and Cynde’s surgery, I promise not to leave you in the dark. I will consistently post updates here. I will let you know what I know.

And right now, I don’t know a lot.

Except for what I feel.

And that is that we are on high alert, waiting for Thursday.

Until then, there is life to be lived and moments to be had.

The family went to Spamalot yesterday. And when I say “the family,” there were about 20 of us in the audience trying to “look on the bright side of life,” searching for a shrubbery and keeping an eye out for murderous rabbits.

Ryan loved Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

As his disease progressed, Ryan’s speech could be pretty bad at times. He had a “talker” that helped him communicate phrases and needs. When he went into hospice, he asked the speech therapist to program it with phrases specific to palliative care.

His favorite was a button quoting The Holy Grail and “I’m not dead yet!”

He also had a button that said, “Ask my sister,” meaning me.

The button had a picture of a nun.

As in sister.

And if you know me…well, that sister/nun button was amazing.

It’s been six months since we lost Ryan. My lovely SIL decided we should celebrate and remember Ryski by going to Spamalot.

I think the timing was perfect.

The musical is completely silly, but tucked among the killer rabbits, Knights Who Say “Ni!” and general absurdity is a message that resonates:

Find your grail.

Last week, I sat in my therapist’s office and told her that nothing in my life feels solid or predictable right now.

She asked me what my anchor was.

I thought for a second.

“Walking the dog and swimming.”

“Do that,” she said. “And make it non-negotiable. Find a way to walk or swim every day. Make that your anchor.”

I’ve thought about that a lot.

Is swimming and walking the dog an anchor or a grail? Do I anchor or do I search?

Or maybe an anchor keeps you grounded while you search for whatever comes next.

Or maybe you start with small things that keep you tethered while everything around you feels uncertain.

Walk the dog.

Get in the pool.

Put one foot in front of the other.

Just make sure you don’t float away.

Or maybe I am thinking way too much about Spamalot.

But as we move into a big week, all of us are searching for that next step.

We celebrated Cynde’s birthday yesterday.

Before she blew out her candle, she looked around at all of us with resolve and said:

“You all know what I’m wishing for this year.”

We do.

And perhaps that is our grail right now…..a successful Thursday.

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Bouncer

I loved this t-shirt. It was circa 1985, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. We had field seats, and the concert was amazing.

I was 14 and wore this shirt proudly, along with my 14-year-old smirk and dark eyeliner.

Bruce wasn’t my first concert. When I was in 7th grade, my mom got us tickets to the Jackson 5 at McNichols Stadium in Denver.


Tickets were $50! Sooooo expensive in the early 80s! But she bought three tickets for me, my brother, and my Mama. I also got parachute pants because it was the 80s.

I will remember Michael and Bruce for the rest of my life. So, when my SIL asked if I would take oldest Phew (OP) to a concert for his 13th birthday, I didn’t pause. “Of course. Let’s do this. Who are we seeing?”

Central Cee at the Filmore.

Central Cee is an English rapper. I had not heard his songs, but this was not about me. I made a Central Cee Spotify Channel and listened….until I couldn’t.

Concert Day! I picked up OP and his friend, and we drove to Denver. Dinner first. We went to a local diner and as we looked over the menu, I asked the boys if they ever had a Monte Cristo sandwich.

No.


“It’s a deep-fried club sandwich,” I said, “it will change your life.”

Phew’s friend ordered a Monte Cristo and a Mexican Coke, and he admitted. “My life is forever changed,” he said as he dipped a piece of fried club sandwich into the raspberry jam. Is there anything better? I think not.

My work here is done. But not quite.


The Filmore is a historic building that has been around since 1907 and lives on Colfax. It was converted into a concert hall in the 1990s. Colfax is known for many things: art, music, the homeless, and a street where you can buy almost anything you want.


I kept my boys close. OP was wearing a knitted pink cap, in line with Central Cee rapper attire. As we walked down Colfax, a grizzled man on a bicycle passed us and yelled something we all interpreted differently.

I heard, “I like your hat!”

And I turned to OP and said, “Look how hip you are! He just said I like your hat!”

OP rolled his eyes, “He said your mom is hot.”

“OH! Really? He said I was hot?” I turned to OP’s friend and asked, “What did you hear?”

They both rolled their eyes. “He said your mom is hot.”

Well, look at me! Hot Auntie Mama cruising Colfax. That’s right. Your Auntie Mama is hot.

We got into the Fillmore. Central Cee t-shirts were $50! I remembered Young Heather and her Bruce t-shirt. Yes, let’s get a shirt, 100 times yes.

At the venue, I was neither cool nor hot. I was more like a bouncer for two kids who were loving…..loving seeing this artist. At one point, two taller young men got right in front of OP and his friend. I tapped these “kids” on the shoulder and told them to move; we were here first. They looked at me, rolled their eyes, muttered a word about Karens and moved on.

That’s right! Don’t mess with the Hot Auntie Mama at OP’s first concert, I will take you down! I will take you down!

The concert ended. Phew’s friend told his Mom it was the best night of his life.

Well, that’s it, Hot Auntie Mamas work is done….I need a nap.

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Back to Write. Back to Reality

Yes, this title should be sung with Soul II Soul in mind, and the beat of Back to Life, Back to Reality……Yes, I know this is now firmly stuck in your head for the next 12 hours.


You’re Welcome.

Side note, did you know Caron Wheeler wrote that song after she had a near-death experience? I didn’t know this, but I’m storing it away for a random trivia night.


Gosh, this week was tough, wasn’t it? And in the theme of the song, many of us are searching for what the new reality is. If we listen to the media, the reality is a little jarring
.


Wednesday was terrible. It really was. No matter where you side with Charlie Kirk, his death is another tragedy and another crack in the divide of our country. Our Evergreen High School had another shooting. I went to a funeral and said goodbye to Mrs. Adams, a Mama from my childhood and caregiver for Young Heather.


And I got fired from my writing side gig.

I say fired, but when you are freelancing, you are at the mercy of a publisher. In this case, we just didn’t see eye to eye on some things. On Wednesday, after 4 years of producing content, she looked at me and said, “I think we’re done.”


And that was it. We were done. I say this knowing I wrote great stories. When I took this gig, a friend of mine said, “It’s like writing for the local newspaper. Everyone wants to be in the newspaper.”


But after years of telling others’ stories, mine suffered. The other night, I sat at my computer, unsure of what to write if I wasn’t writing for someone else.


Well, that is tragic.


And as a result, this blog of mine has suffered. But more impactful is that I stopped telling my story, the story of my family, my thoughts, my interactions with the world. As I sit down tonight without an agenda, just typing away, I am reminded of my own therapy that is my written word.


So maybe this site will get a little more love. Back to me. Back to Write.