TheBanyanTree: Friendly Eyes

[Pam Lawley]

Wow.  Powerful, powerful stuff.

Wow.

On Mon, Jan 3, 2011 at 4:24 PM, auntiesash <auntiesash at gmail.com> wrote:

> It was nice to sit at the table over coffee and toast.  This friend,
> reappearing after months of random texts and status updates, had knocked on
> the door about 1:15 in the morning and had slept soundly on our couch from
> 1:25 until 10:30.
>
> "I knew I could just show up" he said.  "I'm glad you got the text from
> Medford, but I knew that I had to escape California and you would let me in
> whenever I got here.  I guess you guys saved my life again."
>
> I handed him two more slices of toast.  "That's a little dramatic for a
> night on our couch and some breakfast"
>
> "I can't believe you even have *Nutella* for me!  And I'm not being
> dramatic.  I wouldn't have made it to Seattle and I just couldn't face a
> hotel room... or sleeping in my car.  It's nuts... I lived in Oregon for 6
> years, and do you know that you are the only ones still in my cell phone?
>  I
> mean it.  I've removed everyone from my cell phone, one at a time, unless I
> knew I could really count on them.  In the entire state of Oregon, you guys
> are it.  Look at this..."  He handed me the cell phone.  "there are only 6
> names in and one of those is my dad."
>
> I tried to joke about how important it is to leave other numbers in your
> contact list, if only so you can avoid answering sometimes, but he was in
> no
> mood for joking around.  He gripped the Tigger coffee mug and said "You
> know, I thought I was dead.  That time...was it 2 years ago... when the
> dance finished up.  I stayed out there until the tree came down.  I was
> exhausted and then I got sick.  I stayed in my tent for 2 full days... you
> remember how it rained that year?  For 2 days and noone checked on me or
> looked for me.  I don't know if they even knew I was there and after the
> first day and night, I didn't know if I was there either.  I thought I
> might
> not be there... I might be dead... or something else... but not there."
>
> "Then the day came to take the tree down and you came back to camp and you
> showed up at my tent.  You came over and woke me up and told me to come eat
> some scrambled eggs.  You made there incredible eggs with cheese and Ned
> made me toast with Nutella.  Ed handed me some coffee and told me I looked
> awful.  Then after we took the tree down, I was trying to pack up my stuff
> and you guys just made me sit down.  You packed everything and you told me
> to come home with you.  I barely even knew you guys then and you brought me
> back here and I sat at this table.  How long did I stay - 3 days, maybe 4?
>  It was like you wouldn't let me leave, even though you didn't say that.
>  You fed me and we played video games and you said things...."  He looked
> back at me "You said things that let me know that you'd seen it too... and
> been there too... and you know how people are... and you keep trying to
> love... and mostly, I just know that you cared if I was gonna be OK or
> not."
>
> His eyes refocused on the room.  "You guys effin saved me and I don't think
> you were even trying to.  You just did it.  You were just being who you
> are.
>  You're doing it right now, you know?  Letting me rant and poor out my guts
> on your toast.  I can't effin believe you have Nutella."
>
> ****
> The chain is so shiny and delicate.  Every time I touch it I feel a little
> nervous... as if just brushing my hand on it I might suddenly become
> awkward
> and catch my finger and it would snap in two.  I like to touch it, though.
>  I brush my finger across the smooth silver plate, adjusting it to stay
> centered on my throat.
>
> I keep ducking into the bathroom to look in the mirror.  It's really
> beautiful - hanging right at the points of my collarbone.  Not that you can
> actually see my clavicle.  I'm about 20 pounds past being able to see the
> shape and bone structure, but I can feel that it rests perfectly there.
>  It's classy and dainty and sophisticated.
>
> I lean into the mirror to look at the text.  I can't read it, of course.
>  My
> eyes are too weak.  It's also in italics...and backwards, of course, in the
> mirror.  I can see the shape of the word but not the details and I can't
> quite remember what it says.   I remember what it means.  The English
> version in equally precise script is on the side next to my skin.  "Soul
> Friend" it says, but I can't pull up the Gaelic and I don't want to take
> the
> necklace off to look.
>
> ****
> It is one of my most impassioned prayers.
>
> "I pray" I will say to husband "that you could feel, for just one
> heartbeat,
> how much I love you and that you could see, for just one blink of the eye,
> how beautiful and amazing you are to me.  If you could see that and feel
> that, you would know something so important about who you are."
>
> "I wish" I tell my son "I wish that you could know in your heart of hearts,
> even for one day, the promise and kindness and joy that you bring to
> creation.  If you could feel that, you would never feel alone or separate
> from the world again"
>
> "Oh dear LORD" I say to my friends "If you could hear your thoughts and
> read
> your words and see your soul the way I hear and read and see you, you would
> never stop thinking or writing or being you because you are ALL things
> awesome and miraculous."
>
> ****
> I feel different today.
>
> As often and as passionately as I've prayed and wished and exclaimed, I
> have
> never, ever thought to look for that prayer for myself.  But today, at
> least
> for today, I am holding my head just so - not only to show off this lovely
> necklace but because, well, because someone I love very much looked at this
> beautiful, dainty, elegant necklace and thought of me.
>
> And today, at least for today, I am aware that I have the power to save
> lives.  Not by force or miracle, but by feeding and loving and smiling and
> being.
>
> As much as my inner self may boggle at these thoughts, I am choosing to see
> myself, at least for this day, through the eyes of my friends.  My precious
> friends who have no idea how they touch my life... how they give me
> confidence and grace and love and meaning.
>
> If only they could, just for a moment, see what I see.....
>
> sash
> 2011
>
> --
> Everyone is from somewhere
> Even if you've never been there.
> So take a minute to remember
> The part of you that might be the Old Man calling me.
> - *Jethro Tull*
>