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For Stan and Karen – Spark Born Star

Six years ago today Angela and I went out on our first date and to honor and celebrate her father Stan’s birthday. We started at Oslo and ended up at a Nancy Whiskey open mic. It was an amazing night. Until that night there was just this little spark, which I’d always been content with but that kept me a distant, often aloof, observer in even the closest of relationships. That little spark powered me, fueled and fed me enough to propel myself through the drama, or at least from one to the next.

But that night, I, we, that spark, the entire world caught fire like goin’ nova, like an unaware prayer being answered, like this place was suddenly real and things that mattered not suddenly had weight and depth immeasurable. You threw a switch, you turned me on and brought the magic and blessed-but-disconnected wanderings of decades into alignment and unknown relevance.

You met and reflected my little spark born star. Your form, your frame, your star, not only kept up, ha!, but carried me further out than I had ever been before. My awesome gratitude to you, love. I am so blessed to know the reality of our stars, our fire, everyday in our progeny, in Aya as he lives and breaths the joy and wonder that we ignited that night.

We’ve clung to each other in and through this fire, that we each stoke-strong with our experience and history. Through displacement, eviction, poisoning, and down-right devilish deception, this fire burning away of layer after layer. We’ve clung to each other as the flesh of our ancestors has turned to ash and memory in our hands and minds. We’ve held each other as we have each, in our own ways and means, learned to grow, purge, release, and submit to this fire. Thank you so much for holding me as I’ve learned to trust our fire.

Tomorrow, our trust will deepen as we stoke our fire to greater heights by breathing together through the remembrances of your mom’s transition last year. While painful, the portent implicit in the reality that our fire, our star, was born betwixt the joy of Stanley’s birth and the sadness of Karen’s passing, is affirming, sound, symmetrical and sacred. It bears witness, amongst many confirmations in our life, to the fact that this fire, our fire, is protected and secured by our ancestors. That our fire is their fire.

Thank you my love, I know that you know the depth of my gratitude to and for you today and all days. I love you.

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