MIGHT BE UNBELIEVABLE IF IT WASN'T HAPPENING

Do you have one person in your life that the bond would be unbelievable, if it wasn't actually happening to you? I do. I didn't look for this bond where I found it. I always wanted this bond to happen with one other person and expected or hoped it would happen in an intimate relationship. But that is not where it showed up.

The bond is organic, in that it is natural and just is. That doesn't mean that it has only been warm feelings, peaceful and always smooth. None of those things are true. Trying to understand his emotional pain, heartfelt best intentions to always be what I needed to be for this person, times of being on the receiving end of hurtful words are true. Importantly, the hurtful words are not definitive of who he is. He owns his mistakes. And this is a new experience for me. I feel heard when expressing my feelings. I have not witnessed this truthful and complete endeavor in others to be the best that they are in all parts of their life. More specifically, the introspection that he uses to be his best self, I have not seen before. Especially in the men I have known.

The connection is one that is deep in my soul. I believe it is reciprocal. It is a rich and complex relationship between two deeply-feeling and deeply-experiencing beings. I am so grateful to have this bond and to know the connection in the way that I do as a gift from this other spirit walking the earth at the same time that I am.

It is without pretense. There is genuine communication not only in a mortal way, but in a spiritual way. The sincerity he has is so healing for me to see in another human being.

Truthfulness is a hallmark of how we allow each other to be. It is stunning and beautiful and I am grateful.

Recently, each time I have brought a difficult conversation to him, he has shown himself to not only meet me fairly and with complete integrity, he has exceeded how I might have imagined him to show up and allow himself to be and allow me to see. The openness has been refreshing. As he has entered his young adult life and I have entered the autumn into winter season of my life, he has shown glimpses of the most beautiful human being I have ever known. We are now working through things with our roles changing and I now can ask for things not possible when my role was the grown-up and he the, child.

We are approximately 40 years different in age.

He is my son. I didn't give him birth. But, if I had, we couldn't have been more connected with more of a bond.

December 28, 1997

Since my movie camera stopped working the day that he moved in, we went out and rented a movie camera to capture memories of the first Christmas together.

More of the same day

'WHAT MORE COULD WE POSSIBLY BE THAN SWEETNESS IN ANOTHER'S LIFE?"

Photo by Sandra Hammel
Dad's man-made lake in Indiana

I am going through writings, including those that I have done about my father. My father passed away May 10, 2007. He had a diagnosis of Alzheimers, though clearly he didn't have AD, although it was a dementia of some kind. I found these words in regards to my dad, in my writing after a very emotional experience with my mother and dad in August of 2006 ~ "What more could we possibly be than sweetness in another’s life?" Sweetness in my life - felt still, in this life, from yours where you are now, Dad.

Though raised to be religious, I don't consider myself religious now. I do consider myself very spiritual. Having said this I still love the hymns I grew up with. Some favorites, which I embed here for dad and me to share...

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Below is from a previous post of mine
though-my-dad-died-he-lives-on

The Day My Dad Died I Was On the Phone With Him

When I called, Marcia, a nurse picked up the phone. She said dad’s "pulse is irregular, there are crackles in his lungs, he is non-responsive today, he moaned yesterday when I turned him over".

Below is what I said on the phone call to my dad. He took his last breath at the end of the phone call.

“Hello, dad, this is Sandy from Rhode Island. I love you, dad. I love you so very much. I wish I was there. I would hug you and kiss you. I’m going to sing you one verse of

“The Old Rugged Cross”.

On a hill, far away, stood an old rugged cross,

The emblem of suffering and shame,

But I know that old cross, the dearest and best,

For a world of lost sinners was slain,

So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross

Where trophies at last I lay down

I will cling to the old rugged cross

And exchange it some day for a crown.”

I’m coming to Indiana in 6 days, but if you go to heaven before that, just know I’ll see you up in heaven and I’ll hug you and kiss you in heaven. I love you, dad. Can you squeeze Marcia’s hand to say you love me? I love you, dad. Bye

Following this in a couple of seconds, Marcia came on the phone and said:

Sandy, he blinked his eye

I think he’s very close

I think it helped

I’m holding his hand

It’s amazing

He’s waited for you

Beautiful…beautiful

You know, I think he’s gone

I’ve never seen anything like it…..hhhh.

It’s just amazing

I said, what do you mean…

Reply: You and the connection

He waited for you

The healing

He blinked – he doesn’t do that.

I said in response, he was resourceful to the end. He didn't have the strength to squeeze your hand, so he came up with something else.

She responded, How can anyone not believe?

She said, I don’t have my stethoscope, but I think he’s gone

I said, would you get your stethoscope?

She replied: I will. I’ll be right back.

Back, she says: I think he’s gone

I said: Will you touch his hand or arm?

She answered: I touched his forehead

She asked me: Will you be calling Greg?

I said: Yes.

I asked Marcia to stay with me on the telephone. She did.

This was a gift that he gave to me. This was a blessing. I knew it right then.

I shared this story at the funeral service and the singing of “The Old Rugged Cross”.

“Let the world stop turning,

Let the world stop burning,

Let them tell me love’s not worth going through

If it all falls apart

I will know deep in my heart

The only dream that mattered had come true

In This Life I was loved by you.”

From the song “In This Life” sung by Bette Midler

When I went to thank Marcia for all that she had done for my dad, I asked her which eye dad winked with and she said the one near the wall, the left one. I can't even make my left eye wink by itself. But he could. I know he understood everything I said to him. He found a way to say he loved me when I asked. Then...Marcia said she saw him take his last breath. She said she has never seen anyone go like dad, immediately following an exchange. What a gift he gave to me. Such a blessing. Now, he has peace that he so deserved and needed.

What a really cool man he was and continues to be in my life.
A wink has a whole new meaning for me now.

Another tribute post to my dad can be found by clicking the post title.

I THINK OF YOU - JOHANNA

My friend lost her father this week. And this post includes a video I made for her and this time of sadness for her. Light a candel for your dad or someone else's dad

From Kahlil Gibran's

On Beauty

Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.

Read it in full
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John Gorka sings I Think of You
Especially for Johanna. Johanna has helped me get to know Heath Ledger and his work. She introduced me to Heath's Conor of the Roar Series.

In this video is a clip of Johanna's favorite movie of Heath's - Candy and also a bit of my favorite, The Four Feathers, as well as a clip of the Sweet Bright episode of Roar (or so it is titled on my dvd - I think it should be titled Sweet Bridget) and pictures of Brokeback Mountain, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (Heath's final film) and The Patriot.

Youtube has made this video a "featured video" under two categories as of today: ilovemylife and Heath Ledger.

Johanna has become my friend. June 1st was an important day to her and this video is a tribute to her and this important day when her father passed away.

This is best watched at youtube, where you can select to watch it in the size of your screen. (Lower right corner of yt video - the four cornered arrows....just click on that.)

Used in this video: Candy, Roar, The Four Feathers and also pictures from The Patriot, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus and Brokeback Mountain.

I encourage supporting John Gorka who graciously said "yes" when I asked him if I could use his music on my youtube videos. johngorka.com
His music is also available at itunes and amazon.

Lyrics

I look to see the wildflowers blooming and wonder why they seem so plain
Springtime rides all the brown hills over, young birds sing in the silver rain
I think of you as the night rolls by,
you’re on my mind the whole night through

Far away in a lonesome city, all the time you’re gone, I think of you
And when my world has turned to sunlight,
and the dust clouds stand in the summer sky
I’ll number all the climbing roses, watch to see the milkweed fly
I think of you as the night rolls by,
you’re on my mind the whole night through

Far away in a lonesome city, all the time you’re gone, I think of you
And when I hear the soft wind moaning,
like an angel’s voice from a far-off shore
My days slip by like light snow falling,
or dry brown leaves blown by my door
I think of you as the night rolls by,
you’re on my mind the whole night through
Far away in a lonesome city, all the time you’re gone, I think of you

Previous posts about my dad's death

Though-my-dad-died-he-lives-on

My-last-good-by-to-my-dad-and-my-red-sled

Because-of-my-dad-i-know-i-have-known-what-loves-feel-like
This post has a note to and from the nurse who helped me speak to my father the day that he died.

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Dance
Thank you, Tina, for making this public again.
Uploaded by stillmissheath2

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How I Got Over
Mahalia Jackson
The video quality needs to be overlooked - but this is great, nevermind the flaws in the video.
Uploaded by elfeco

My dad loved this kind of music. And so do I. We had Mahalia's LP and I loved playing it on the record player when I was young. I bought Mahalia's music on cd and it still affects me, today. I was singing along with this song in the car yesterday...one great car ride on a beautiful ride over the Newport-Pell Bridge over Narragansett Bay here in Rhode Island.

A click on the post title will take you Kahlil Gibran's Friendship

MY INTERNAL WORLD OF GRACE

Without even going out of the door
One can know the whole world.
Lao Tzu

I like to write. When I write about my internal world of feelings, confusion and need for understanding ~ I find healing, clarity and comfort just by finding ways to express my rawness. What I have learned over the last couple of years is that finding truth in my personal life is hard. Hard because what I always believed about my most important contributor to my life was simply wrong. I am wrestling with the depth of the feelings and trying to integrate the revealed with what used to be my internal world. Just because I don’t want to believe that it was false ~ to have been operating with the assumption that I was unconditionally loved by the one who brought me into this world ~ doesn’t change the truth.

Just because someone says “I love you” ~ it doesn’t make it so.

I have come to believe that I can make it without the unconditional love of someone else.

I am not a victim. I choose to live in personal truth. There is nothing more important than truth. Unless it is justice. But justice needs truth.

I take comfort in knowing that what I am is someone I could spend my whole life with. I know how ridiculous that reads. But I love my own company. I love my sense of humor. I love my spirit for life. And I love the joy of being me. I love that I am not pretentious. At the end of all endings, none of us has anyone but who we are. And if you can like yourself and how you have treated others and how you have stood for truth and justice, then that is a pretty good place to be.

I have been going through the foundation of my life. This search has been amplified by the death of my dad May 10, 2007 and finding myself letting the grieving out. It has shaken my core but I haven’t found it discouraging, but a lighter load to carry.

My dad had a diagnosis of Alzheimers Disease, but he and I communicated to his last breath. To me, he had some memory problems, but his spirit was always in tact and very present. My dad had my forgiveness for all the past rage and leather strappings during my childhood because in the end I saw the man for whom he really was ~ gentle, compassionate, loving and tactful. My dad gave me the personification of integrity and being genuine. With me, he showed a sense of humor in his last year. I consider it a gift.

It has been holy work to figure out my family. I have been so moved by the sweetness of my dad. I am aware that the last time we were together was a spiritual experience not only between father and daughter, two human beings, but with Life itself in an all encompassing way. It was a religious experience for me.

What more could we possibly be than sweetness in another’s life?

My roots will be constantly reaching for my father’s fertile ground of strength, fortitude and joy of life. Plant your tree where the ground is best for you.

“We think of religious activity
as directed toward God
- instead of man.

We believe in someone divine
rather than in ourselves.

Maybe we have turned religion
inside-out.”

From the book Please Touch by Edwin M. McMahon and Peter A. Campbell

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“What though the radiance
which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.”
William Wordsworth

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The Rose sung by Bette Midler
Uploaded by DarkLady77

If I had wings no one would ask me should I fly
The bird sings, no one asks why.
I can see in myself wings as I feel them
If you see something else, keep your thoughts to yourself,
I’ll fly free then.

Yesterday’s eyes see their colors fading away
They see their sun turning to grey
You can’t share in a dream, that you don’t believe in
If you say that you see and pretend to be me
You won’t be then.

How can you ask if I’m happy goin’ my way?
You might as well ask a child at play!
There’s no need to discuss or understand me
I won’t ask of myself to become something else
I’ll just be me!

If I had wings no one would ask me should I fly
The bird sings, and no one asks her why.
I can see in myself wings as I feel them
If you see something else, keep your thoughts to yourself,
I’ll fly free then.

Lyrics of If I Had Wings as sung by Peter, Paul and Mary

DEATH DOES NOT END A RELATIONSHIP

My dad died one year ago today on May 10, 2007. I appreciate my relationship with my dad that I continue today. I wrote about the day Though My Dad Died He Lives On
and also
I Sang for My Father Precious Memories
Because of My Dad Know I Have Known What Love Feels Like

The relationship of connectedness or lacking of connectedness that we have with a mother or a father are monumentally important. They affect us in everything. I continue to try to accept that my mother is what she is. Not what I thought she was, but what she is.

Last mother's day was spent away from my son. I spent the morning on that mother's day in Indiana, my son in Rhode Island. I was sitting in church with a congregation of the people that I grew up with. My brother sitting by my side from Hawaii. We were there for dad though his body had no more life in it. That afternoon I sang hymns to my dad in the casket ~ sitting on a stool and being with him ~ in a way that was denied the last time I was in Indiana while he was alive.

I touched his cold hands and cheeks. It was real. He was gone. And yet...
death does not end a relationship. Mine with my father is clearer than ever. He was genuine, there was no charade of pretending to care for me. That in the end became to be so very important to me.

Dad waited for me to sing one last time The Old Rugged Cross while the phone was held to his ear. The last communication he had with me, because he couldn't talk and was too weak to respond to my suggestion to squeeze the nurse's hand to say that he loved me was to wink with his left eye. His last breath was taken when I sang the last word of the song.

My dad was not a pretender. He was the best parent at the end when who he truly was ~ was transparent. There is nothing that can be better than to have a parent who is authentic.

I love you, Dad. Thank you, I know you are my angel.

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I Know You By Heart

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Sung by Eva Cassidy

On Giving
Kahlil Gibran

You give but little when you give of your possessions.
It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?
And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?
And what is fear of need but need itself?
Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?

There are those who give little of the much which they have--and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.
And there are those who have little and give it all.
These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.
There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.
And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.
And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;
They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.
Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth.

It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding;
And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving.
And is there aught you would withhold?
All you have shall some day be given;
Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'.

You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving."
The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.
They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.
Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights, is worthy of all else from you.
And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream.
And what desert greater shall there be, than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving?
And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed?
See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving.
For in truth it is life that gives unto life while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness.

And you receivers... and you are all receivers... assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.
Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;
For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the freehearted earth for mother, and God for father.
On Giving

On Death
Kahlil Gibran

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.


In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?


For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?


Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
On Death

Kahlil Gibran On Children

Kahlil Gibran On Love

Kahlil Gibran On Freedom

Kahlil Gibran On Beauty

Kahlil Gibran On Self-Knowledge

Kahlil Gibran On Joy and Sorrow