Sometimes I almost forget that he is not here anymore and I don’t want to let myself believe that he is actually gone. I still get the urge to call him and I have been hearing his voice a lot lately. I still have those day dream memories about him: I arrive at my folks’ house, he brings his smile for me to the porch and says excitedly “Hey Kiddo, before you do anything else you gotta check this out!” And sometimes I would be in a hurry or I would be grumpy and maybe I wouldn’t be very enthusiastic about it and he would say “It’ll only take a minute… humor me” with a twinkle in his eye that winked without having to. He would lead me out to the garden and point at the plants growing through the dirt, his voice would become a loud excited whisper as he would grab on to my shoulder and say with wonder and playful disbelief “Look at that! They’re growing. All I did was play in the dirt, plant some stuff, water it and now there is new life growing out of this world. I’ll be damned. Yesterday they were this big [he shows me by holding up his thumb and forefinger, mimicking the height] and today they are this big already [separates them a tiny bit more]!" He would stare at me with his contagious grin and I loved every second of it. It was always so impossible to avoid catching his excitement. It wasn’t just the excitement for the plants that were coming up or the food that was being made right there in the dirt, it was excitement for life--all of it. I so miss that excitement and I am proud to have known it so well. I can still find it through these memories but it will never be the same and that is the hardest thing to accept.
There are new chapters opening up for all of us: Aeden and Morgan are moving in to their own place together and I am moving in with friends back in the neighborhood I grew up in. I’m going to miss living with them but it is time to move on and I’m excited to find out what’s next. My mom’s eyes are almost totally fixed and so she’s working on figuring out the next step for her as well. I’m really grateful for Oakley--it’s hard to be sad around that puppy. It’s possible, just not easy. Overall I think we’re doing really well. It has been a tough year for all of us with a whole lot of loss and a lot of change but I think we’ve handled it remarkably well, and I know that we’re going to make it. It’s just going to take a while to feel grounded again and we all have a lot to figure out.
I keep wondering what tomorrow will be like. I might wake up early and make a list of all the things that I am grateful for, as my dad did so many mornings. It seems like the best way to start any day, especially one like this. I want to remember him and hear stories, I want to laugh and forget and be distracted at times, I want to focus on the good times that we all had together and I want to keep him alive through stories and memories. I might even go garage sale-ing with friends to find stuff for my new place--my dad loved good deals and loved wondering about the history of things so that seems appropriate. The four of us are planning to go to dinner tomorrow night, it will be good to be together. I know that he would want us to make room and time to feel sad and acknowledge the loss and I know that he would want us to also find relief, to laugh and joke and have fun and be silly. Remembering this time last year is difficult, we were basically in a holding pattern waiting for my dad to die. I was talking to my mom earlier today about how it makes me feel sick when I think about that aspect of his death, the waiting and the watching him slip away. On the other hand, I have incredible memories of the music and the people who helped us take care of him--some from a distance and some from right next to the hospital bed in my folks’ living room. It was a huge gift for me, for all of us to receive that kind of care and witness humanity at its very finest.
I would give anything to have him back. It’s ironic that the one person I want to talk about this the most with is the one person who can’t be found. I really miss him. I have his excitement for life, a similar love of people and nature and the best I can do for now is use it and hope that it can be as infectious for others as it was for me.
I talked with Tom's 93-year old mom last night about remembering this time last year and about not remembering this time last year. When I remember Tom slipping away, I sink & can barely move. I snap myself out of this funk by seeing so many of you in my mind, either visiting him or writing or singing or sending stuff, and I again become so very grateful for the way he was ushered out of this lifetime. I feel good about being able to love and care for him (my friend for 34 years & husband for 30) all the way through. I'm proud of Aeden & Irene for being so strong and loving and helpful. And I'm grateful to our amazing local community for taking care of the farm & visitors so that the kids & I could focus on Tom.
We've almost made it through a year of 'firsts' without Tom and have been told that things will get easier. I think it's true. Have found myself feeling like playing music again & quoting him lately. I've also wondered out loud what his nickname for my puppy, Oakley, would be. He would have thought she was a pain in the butt, which she is - an extremely intelligent one at that- but he also would have played with her and noticed things that I likely haven't picked up on yet. Damn, I miss him....
Anyway, I know that you have also experienced Tom's loss and want you to know that I love you.
I don’t think that things are getting any easier. They’re just different. It hurts in a different way now. I really miss him and there‘s a lot of loneliness in that missing. It’s funny, I know that I’m in this with my mom and my brother and the rest of my family and I know that there are a lot of people out there who miss him too but that knowledge doesn’t make it any less lonesome. I still sometimes think that it wouldn’t be surprising to get a phone call from him. I don‘t expect it, I just don‘t think it would be that weird. I called his old cell phone number the other day and a strange girl’s voice came on his answering machine. I knew it would happen but I didn’t want it to, with her voice came a deep disappointment that I hadn‘t expected.
Back there at the beginning, as I see now, my life was all time and almost no memory. Though I knew early of death, it still seemed to be something that happened only to other people, and I stood in an unending river of time that would go on making the same changes and the same returns forever.
And now, nearing the end, I see that my life is almost entirely memory and very little time. …I began to understand that whenever death happened, it happened to me. That is knowledge that takes a long time to wear in. Finally it wears in. Finally I realized and fully accepted that one day I would belong entirely to memory and it would then not be my memory that I belonged too…
Some days, sitting here on my porch over the river, my memory seems to enclose me entirely; I wander back in my reckoning among all of my own that have lived and died until I no longer remember where I am. And then I lift my head and look about me at the river and the valley, the great, unearned beauty of this place, and I feel the memoryless joy of a man just risen from the grave.
My aunt Sharon gave this book to us for Christmas and said that she thought Tom would really like it. I agree; I think he would love this book. I often wonder what he would think about certain lines that I read or scenes that I see or things that I think, I wonder what he would say about them now. I love his life so much, it’s hard to imagine letting any of it go and it’s even harder to imagine him being forced to do the same, even though we lived it. There have been many incredible people who have passed away recently, some that I knew well and some that I never had a chance to know. I hope that they’re all together somewhere waiting for the rest of us when it is our turn to go.
a new time has begun.
a time to dream and love and laugh--
a new year full of fun.
We’ve learned a lot and lost a lot
but gained more than we know,
let’s use this year to heal and live,
let’s push ahead and grow.
We cannot change the past hardships,
we cannot turn back time,
but we can make the future great--
yours and theirs and mine.
Let’s hold on to each other close
as this year ends so soon
and embrace next year with hope and joy
as it sings a brand new tune.
I believe in this life, this world, this place,
I believe in you and me.
Through you I’ve learned to believe in us--
in love and family.
Happy New Year
It snowed a little more last night, it is a beautiful day. Aeden and I are getting ready to head out to the farm to spend the rest of the morning with my mom at my folks' house, we may go see a movie later to get out of our world and into someone else's for a little while. I don't really care what we do as long as we're together.
Last year for Christmas my dad presented this poem to me:
I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere as though behind a hill--
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls.
from "Stone" by Charles Simic
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays
I love this time of year. I love watching the fall-into-winter progression, the changing of colors as life prepares. The hyper-color leaves fall away, leaving the trees bare and vulnerable. Time passes and the vulnerability fades into a hardening. The world seems to toughen up, as if it is saying “Bring it on, winter. I’ll be back next year, next year will be better.” That’s how I’m beginning to feel as well.
This morning the sky looked like a huge pillow bed and on my way to work I walked by several tall bare trees. I day dreamed the walk away and in my thoughts I climbed to the top most branch, reached up to the sky and pulled down some of the cloud blanket to wrap around me. Sometimes I wish I could climb up there and hide.
My dad and I shared a love for this time of year. We loved pointing out our favorite trees, we loved stopping to examine each good one on our walks or on drives. We called each other when we saw an exceptionally cool branch or the most vibrant of colors in leaves somewhere. There was always time for us to enjoy this together, even if we were apart. He wrote this poem for me fifteen years ago, it’s my favorite:
Trees Against The Sky
... for Irene - Christmas, © 1993
There is a scene we like to share:
It's trees against the sky,
Winter trees that don't have leaves
No matter how they try
To hold on through the fall and winds,
To have a bit more time.
They're gone and now the branches draw
A skeleton design.
You like them best when reaching up,
I like them best when bent
And gnarled over with the weight
Of storms and time well-spent.
We see them mostly in the dusk
And when the weather's gray,
And now, with solstice, Christmas lights
Stretching out the day.
There are no signs of springtime yet;
She waits down underground
In roots that feed and hold the trees
And let them move around.
Some day she will paint the leaves
Back on the branches bare.
You'll point it out, we'll laugh again --
Another scene to share.
Another scene to welcome in
As others say good-bye,
Mem'ry deepens fav'rite ones,
Like trees against the sky.
I want nothing more than to share this with him again. I was eleven when he gave it to me, I memorized it right away. It was kind of like our anthem, still is. Pointing out these scenes became a game of ours and I miss that game so much, especially this time of year, such a beautiful time of year. There are several memories flooding back that I will write about soon. He sure was incredible.
Again, better late than never:
The tribute in Dallas was awesome. Aeden, Morgan, my mom & I arrived in Dallas on the evening of Thursday November 6th and we ate at this nice little Mexican restaurant a few blocks away from our hotel. My mom and I shared a room with Billie and Robin from Teacher’s Camp and we all visited for a while before going to sleep, it was really great to see them. The next morning we wandered around the exhibit hall at the Convention Center where the NAEYC (National Association for the Education of Young Children) Convention was held. I’ve been to some conferences, workshops and concerts with my dad to help sell tapes before but I‘ve been never to one this big. It was overwhelming to see all the stuff that people think is necessary or important for kids and teachers in the world of early childhood. There were tons of products and plastic things and sing-along rap songs about how fun life is and advertisements for easy to clean-up, mess-free play time activities. I guess they work for some people but I liked the things that seemed homemade and messy the best. I had two favorite booths: One was also Billie’s favorite, it was a booth of wooden furnishings and tables and there was this cool wooden stand with a container of water that had a hose draining into it with plants and I think there was some dirt with it and it had a little rope-bucket contraption and shovels and the people that ran the booth were really nice. My other favorite was also Gwen, Morgan & Aeden‘s favorite: the science booth. There were tiny little pebbles that grow to the size of marbles when you add water to them and they feel slimy like eyeballs when you touch them, there was stuff that starts out as tiny beads and turns into fluffy cold snow with water, there were things flying around and there was a guy wearing goggles in a tank and he was letting coke-a-cola bottles explode all around him, soaking him with waterfalls of soda. It was fun, messy, hands-on and really cool.
My mom and brother helped out at my dad’s space there, Hugh Hanley was extremely kind and let us share his booth to sell my dad’s stuff. It was really hard for Gwen & Aeden to be there, harder for them than for me because they have more connections and memories from those places with my dad than I do. I don’t like using the term “harder” when it comes to this stuff because our experiences are so different but I think it makes sense for that setting. Billie, Robin, Hugh, Jeanne and others offered to take turns at the booth so that the four of us (Aeden, Morgan, Gwen & I) could get out of there to see Dallas for a bit. We spent a lot of that afternoon wandering around Dallas and learning about JFK. We went to a museum where this really cool old guy told us about his experience of the day that JFK was shot, he had just seen the caravan go by and was heading back to work a block away when it happened. We went on an audio tour of JFK’s presidency and his life. I was struck by the hope that infused the times back then and the similarities between JFK and Obama, I couldn’t help but feel an air of possibility and hopefulness. We checked out the grassy knoll, ate some BBQ and headed back to the Convention Center. Ben and Siobhan, a couple of my friends from Austin met us there. I was really flattered that they came from Austin to Dallas to spend the evening with us, they are two very incredible people. They ended up driving us to the tribute and they hung out with me while the tribute was getting set up, they stayed for the whole thing and it was really nice to have them there with us.
The tribute was at the Hyatt, maybe a mile away from the Convention Center. That building has the coolest elevator that I have ever been on, I went on it at least five times. The walls were glass so we could see everything we passed, it went fast so it felt like we were flying through the floors and it went up the full 28 stories. About halfway up we broke through the roof and we were suddenly gliding up the side of the hotel, looking out on all of Dallas and the tower with the ball of lights was right in front of us and it was really, really fun. It was probably the best free entertainment I’ve had in a really long time. The tribute started at 7 pm and it couldn’t have been any better. The room was packed and there were connections being made between a lot of people, several comments were made about how Tom is still managing to bring people together. Bev Bos and Michael Leeman were a big part of the tribute, it was reassuring to see them up there. They played music along with Hugh Hanley throughout the event and some other people joined in and teachers took turns telling stories about Tom’s influence in their lives and how he inspired them. Jeanne’s tribute DVD was incorporated during it also, it captures my dad so well and it is absolutely beautiful. Margie C., Deb, Billie, Jeanne and others presented their own stories and read stories written by Kelly and Margie S., a couple teachers who weren't able to come to the event. Even though there were so many people there that some had to stand in the back, the tribute still felt intimate and very right. I got to meet Cody's grandma and although I was overwhelmed with everything going on it was really nice to meet and hug her. Overall the tribute was comfortable, beautiful, poignant, inspiring and, once again, I know that my dad would be very proud.
That night after the tribute Billie, Robin, my mom, Aeden, Morgan, Ben, Siobhan and I all went back to our hotel room and visited for a while. We played “Would You Rather” and we caught up on things and there was a lot of laughter and eventually we went to bed. The next morning Aeden and my mom went back to the Convention Center and Morgan, Ben, Siobhan and I wandered around Dallas a little more. Aside from the JFK stuff it doesn’t seem like there’s much to do in Dallas without a car, we saw some interesting sculptures and said hi to some people and then we went back to the hotel. Ben and Siobhan went home and Billie, Robin and the Bellingham crew shared a shuttle to the airport and we all flew home our separate ways, it was really hard to say goodbye.
There’s something really extraordinary about being around the people who had such great connections with my dad, it feels like there’s always a lot more going on than can be seen and it is hard to be away from that once it has been so close. I’ve realized since we got back that I haven’t made much time to be around that group of people since the months surrounding my dad's death and I’ve noticed that when I am with them the void seems less than when I don’t spend much time with the family friends and the teachers and musicians and gardeners and the people that knew my dad so well. I miss that and I would like to make that a more prominent part of my life now. I’ve been struggling with how to stay connected with him and I think I need more stories about him and to make more stories about me with those people and those relationships. I am so grateful for all that has been done for us and for my dad, all that we have been included in and all that we have to celebrate. It isn’t really getting any easier, at least not yet, but it sure is rich and important to go through. A big thanks to all who worked to make these tributes and the ones we weren’t able to attend happen, it is so cool that these are going on.
From October 24th -- Tom Hunter Day (for some reason this was hard to write about and even harder to post--better late than never):
I stayed at my folks’ house Thursday night (Oct 23rd) and on Friday morning my mom and I sang the Good Morning song to each other. I sang about her shirt, she sang about my shoes and then I sang about her face (my favorite):
Good morning Good morning
I like the face you’ve got on in fact I like it so much I’m gonna put it in a song
In a song In a song
In a song In a song
I’m gonna put you and your face in a song.
I love that because you get to be in a song with your stuff, it’s so simple yet so significant at the same time. It’s not every day that a song gets sung about you and your stuff. I sang in my car the whole way home: Black Sabbath’s War Pigs, Aerosmith’s Dream On, Etta James’ The Wallflower, Fiona Apple’s Extraordinary Machine, Faith No More’s Epic, and I even rapped a little with the radio (my dad would be so proud). I sang one of my favorite songs that my dad used to sing, the words go something like this:
Hold back the day Hold back the dayI
n which I’m living In which I’m living
So far from home So far from home
So far from free So far from free
Hold back the weight Hold back the weight
We’ve all been given We’ve all been given
And let a sweet song of yesterday wash over me.
It seemed appropriate, I really like that song. Time has been going too fast lately, there has been too much sadness and too much hustle and I don’t always like that time just keeps on going. Sometimes it’s comforting, other times I realize that it has been over four months already since he died and it doesn’t seem right. It still doesn’t seem real. Last night I expected my dad to walk into my parents’ room and say “Well looky here, it’s my two most favorite ladies” and we would tease him about how cheesy he is but we would love it. He greeted us that way often.
I came home and got ready for work and sang the good morning song about Tortuga’s shell (“I like the shell you’ve got on”). Tortuga is my dad’s turtle that I have adopted, my mom and I got him a turtle when I was in elementary school and she lived in his office until a couple weeks ago when I brought her to my house. “Tortuga” is Spanish for “turtle” and I always thought it was really funny that he named her that, I kind of expected her to be a Fred because of his song. He would stick his neck out really far and enunciate every syllable in her name when he said it “TORrrr-tOOO-Ga“ and smile his big proud smile afterwards, probably for no reason other than to make us laugh. He was really good at that.
Aeden, Morgan, my mom & I drove down to Tacoma together for the tribute that evening, it was incredible. It’s really emotionally overwhelming to be at these events, to see first hand the impact that my dad had on people and to wish that he could be here now to enjoy these tributes with us. It is a huge honor to be at these events, it is also a huge reminder that he is not here anymore. An eight year old girl named Sophie played guitar and sang Malvina Reynolds’ “If You Love Me” (aka “The rose and the apple tree song”) and it was awesome. Several people that knew my dad and his music took turns leading songs and telling brief stories about Tom and their experiences with him, Laura Smith and Linda Allen performed as well. My mom, Aeden and I were called up to the stage and Sandy presented us with the official signed & stamped copy of Governor Gregoire’s proclamation, along with a rose and an apple. We watched the DVD tribute that Jeanne put together and it is absolutely beautiful. It’s bittersweet to hear him and see him and not be able to interact with him but it is an incredible tribute, a beautiful reminder of the work that he did for kids and teachers around the world.
The tribute was amazing but my favorite part about Tom Hunter Day was the car ride home. We were all exhausted and full of gratitude, a little sad and slightly grumpy (it had been a very long day for us all). I made up an A-Z Song Game, a game where you have to sing songs that have a word in the title that begins with each letter of the alphabet. I figured we should go out with a bang on Tom Hunter Day: A Day For Singing! so we sang our hearts out. We sang from Tacoma to Lake Samish, making it all the way through the alphabet and it turned out to be a hilariously fun game. The next day my voice hurt, but in a good way. It was definitely worth it.
My dad never cared too much for technology. In fact, I don’t think he ever actually learned how to use the VCR. He would put the movie in the slot, sit back and crinkle up his face as he stared at the buttons. He would press play; nothing would happen. He would look puzzled for a moment and then he would ask for help. I always had fun teasing him about that but I realize now that it’s not because he wasn’t capable of learning about it, it’s because he never really cared enough about electronics to learn. They weren’t his style.
My dad loved homemade things. He liked things made out of wood. He loved things that weren’t perfect. He loved sounds. We shared a love for the sound that a pencil makes as it moves across a piece of paper. Sometimes when I don’t know what else to do I’ll put my head down on a table and drag a pencil slowly across a piece of paper and just listen--I guess it’s just another way to feel close to him still. We shared a love for hand-written cards and letters, we preferred feelings over diagnoses. All my life he could always tell when there was something wrong with me and figure out how to talk about it, even over the phone. He would ask “What’s wrong, Kiddo?” and I’d usually say “Nothing” even if there was something because sometimes it’s really hard to know what’s wrong, sometimes things are unexplainable and sometimes it's simply easier not to address them. He’d always say “C’mon, I don’t think that’s very true” and then we’d figure out a way to talk about it. He always knew.
My dad was always good at talking things through and once we figured out what was going on I would talk to my mom and she would figure out what to do, how I could fight to make things right again. My mom fights for us all the time, not just for my brother and I but for everyone. She fights for a healthy earth, she fights for justice in all senses of the word, for answers, for love. She fought to protect us from the hard realities of life, from illness and death until those inevitable things won. We then watched her fight for our dad all the way to the end, fighting against unbelievable diagnoses, fighting against discomfort, fighting away his pain. She fought lovingly and gently, with unconditional, unwavering determination and affection. My mom is my hero, too.
***
I was driving out to my folks’ house the other day to pick my mom up for dinner and I was thinking about how weird it is that there is so much paper work associated with a person’s life. Everyone gets a birth certificate when they’re born and a death certificate when they die. Proof of life sometimes has to be provided--either proof that you are or proof that you were. I remember feeling so devastated for my mom as she filled out the documentation surrounding my dad’s death, how she had to try and sum up his life on a little questionnaire so that we could receive the death certificate and start changing things even more. I was thinking about this as I drove, getting angrier and more bitter all the while, when a thought occurred to me: Being presented with a certificate means that you have passed something. You have completed the requirements and have moved on to the next level of whatever it is that you’re doing. You get a certificate for a job well done, another level completed. I like thinking that the certificate means that my dad passed this test and has moved on to the next thing, whatever that may be. We have the certificate now as proof of a life well-lived; a certificate of life completion. Just when I thought I couldn't be any more proud of him... Nice work, Daddy.
WHEREAS, Tom Hunter nourished the hearts of teachers, parents, and children for decades throughout Washington State, the nation, and overseas; and
WHEREAS, Tom Hunter was a brilliant folk singer, songwriter, minister, minstrel, educator, and champion of teachers and children; and
WHEREAS, Tom Hunter had an encyclopedic knowledge of folk songs and when no suitable song existed, was most willing to write one; and
WHEREAS, Tom Hunter was widely beloved for his ability to celebrate teachers’ everyday interactions with children; and
WHEREAS, Tom Hunter encouraged generations of children to sing and value community; and
WHEREAS, Tom Hunter was a loving husband, father, son, brother and stalwart friend to many; and
WHEREAS, we honor Tom Hunter’s teachings, generosity, vision, and talents by keeping his music and stories alive, and continuing his legacy of singing out loud. In short, following Tom’s wise advice to KEEP IT GOING;
NOW, THEREFORE, I Christine O. Gregoire, Governor of the state of Washington, do hereby proclaim October 24, 2008, as
Tom Hunter Day: A Day for Singing!
in Washington State, and I urge all citizens to join me in this special observance.
I want to scream really loud several times a day. I don’t do it, but I want to. I’ll be at work, running errands, spending time with friends, or trying to sleep and it will just hit me like a ton of bricks: everything is so wrong now. How can everyone go on with their lives as though the world didn't just collapse? I have to swallow back the urge and act like everything is fine. I can believe things are fine sometimes, too. It’s so crazy how someone can be there every day of your life and then suddenly they’re just… gone. Sure there are reminders of who they were, they will never be forgotten, but it seems impossible to find them again in this world and that fact is devastating. I feel like I'm waking up to a world that I don't really like that much, a world where my dad can die, my coworker who shared music with me can get killed in an accident and some pretty close friends from different parts of my life can battle some really grave medical conditions, all within a couple months. I need to work on liking my world again, I guess there needs to be room in my world for these things even if I don't want them there. That's just how life goes.
The Way It Is
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
William Stafford
This poem reminds me of what my dad said as the reality and gravity of the situation hit us back in the beginning of May, the day that we came home from UW from the second opinion: “No matter how hard things get, no matter how lost you feel, grab whatever you can around you, hold on and don't let go. You just gotta hold on.” That faith is the thread, what we hold on to. I have to believe that we’ll be ok and I have to believe that he is ok. Without that belief, I don’t know what I would do.
Another thing that I’ve been holding on to lately is words. I’ve been loving finding the lyrics of some of my favorite songs, I love delving into the language of books and I have found myself listening harder to what people say and the way they say it. I bought a dictionary for myself at the end of July. I’ve been wanting one for a few years and one day I was driving around in my car, listening to the recording of my dad from the 2003 Good Stuff For Kids Conference and he was talking about playing with words. I found myself pulling into a parking space near Village Books, my favorite local bookstore. I walked in and asked about dictionaries, they pointed out a few that I didn’t really like because I had fallen in love with a really huge one that was over $60.00 and I didn‘t have the money to buy it. I brought it up to the reference guy to ask some questions about it and he told me that earlier that day someone brought a used copy in so he gave me the used copy that was in perfect condition for half off and I used my birthday discount of 26% so I got a super fancy dictionary for only $27.00. I feel like my dad is to thank a little for that one because I probably wouldn’t have gone there that day had I not been listening to him talk about playing with words and he really liked a good deal.
The last movie that my parents and I watched together is Across The Universe, the Beatles musical. I don’t normally like musicals but I really love this movie, the cinematography and music throughout the story is incredible. My dad really liked it and the song Across The Universe has been playing through my mind off and on since we saw it. I hummed it to my dad a lot during his illness and I never really knew the words. I looked them up today and the first verse seems to really fit with how I’ve been feeling lately:
Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
they slither while they pass
they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
are drifting through my open mind
possessing and caressing me
Jai guru deva, om
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothings’ gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
The chorus is bittersweet for me right now because it feels like the whole world has changed, but that phrase also has to do with faith. It is still my world, even though it is so different now. I know that no matter what happens it is up to me to make my world the best place for me and for the people that I know and love; that’s what my dad did and he did it so well. He found a way to be happy in this world, in his world, even through all the bad, and he was able to pass that on to those that he came into contact with.
I've been paying more attention to things that are comforting lately, keeping my ears open to what helps people when they're sad. My friends help a lot, I have a lot of really funny and fun friends. Reading and writing help, exercise helps, listening to music helps and I like being anywhere near water. I also really like the sky. No matter where I am or what kind of day it is the sky is always there and it is always beautiful. When I was driving up from Portland a few weeks ago the clouds looked like a whole bunch of cupped hands, leading the way home. I love playing the cloud game, pointing out what each cloud looks like and hearing what other people see in them.
The moon is one thing that has always comforted me a lot, whenever I see it I pause. I love the power that the moon has on the tides, the relationship between the moon and this world is incredible. Aeden pointed out a little while ago that our Grandma always does that too, she always points out the moon and talks about how cool it is. She says things like "Look Irene, that's the same moon that Molly is seeing in New Mexico right now" or "That same moon is shining down on Bill and Sharon tonight, too." She did that a few times when we were in Claremont. The moon is constant, it is reliable, it is loyal. There are tons of songs and poems about the moon and the stars, here are a few that stand out for me right now (I found the pictures on the internet, I didn't take any of these but I like them):
I've been singing this song a lot to myself lately, I learned it at Teacher's camp and I have found it to be really comforting:
love is gone, love will be back soon
for the new moon and the old moon
are the same moon after all
and the heart is always full
This is a song that my mom taught me when I was little, I still sing it to myself whenever I see the moon during the day:
the sun is still in the sky
Go back to your bed and cover up your head
and wait 'til the day goes by
This is one of my new favorite quotes, it's an Eskimo proverb. It's not about the moon but about the nighttime sky. It blows my mind to think that a lot of the stars we see died thousands of years ago:
where our loved ones shine down to let us know
they are happy
I just read a really cool book called Old Man's War by John Scalzi and in it he uses a jisei, a Japanese death poem:
I fall as a shooting star
into the next life
We then met up with Bill's daughter Laurel and her husband Adam for breakfast in downtown Claremont and wandered through the lively Farmer's Market. We met Tom's parents for church and heard a sermon about fairness and completeness, it hit home. Laurel and Adam left and at 2:00, the five of us--Aeden, Gwen, Irene and Tom's parents--lit candles and joined voices from all over in singing songs for Tom's birthday. We sang "Happy Birthday" and "On the Day You Were Born," a song we learned at Teacher's Camp:
On the day that Tom was born
The angels sang and they blew on their horns
And they danced, yeah they danced,
They smiled and raised up their hands
On the day, on the day that Tom was born.
--Red Grammer
Judy: Thank you for this thoughtful idea and
Billie: Thank you for passing it on]
We had a quiet family dinner at 5 and then listened to a recording of the memorial service that Tom's parents' community put together for him. It was a day full of songs, gratitude, sadness, good company and fond memories. It was a good birthday and we think Tom would be proud.
We love this idea. It doesn't have to be a birthday song, it can be any song that you want to sing that reminds you of Tom in your life. The three of us will be with Tom's parents at 2:00 on Sunday and we will stop what we're doing to sing songs for him with you. We love the idea of voices coming together from afar to celebrate the day that our Tom was born.
Sometimes my dad would turn his hat sideways if he was wearing one, start beat-boxing and fake-rapping for no apparent reason and then he would cross his arms over his chest the way famous MCs used to do and then we would laugh really hard. I still don't really know why he did this.
Last night Aeden jammed at a local bar/venue called the Wild Buffalo downtown with some pretty amazing musicians. I will never understand how people who have never met each other before, never played music with each other before, can create such amazing, professional music together the first time they play. I'm pretty sure that there's nothing that Aeden can't do musically and in many realms of life, he is exceptionally talented. Morgan and I went last night and I had a great time, I stayed out a little later than I should have but it was good & definitely worth it. Watching Aeden on that stage brought back a memory from a few years back, I'm pretty sure it was from the early Spaceband days and my mom, dad and some friends and I went to the Wild Buffalo to see them play. During one particularly funky song my parents got up and started dancing together in front of the stage. I don't know if you have ever seen Tom dance, it's one of the funniest sites I can think of. I remember watching them, thinking how beautiful and graceful my mom is, how goofy and fun my dad is and how talented and amazing my brother is. At one point my friend Alex cut in to dance with my mom and my dad's reaction was hilarious. This is one of my new favorite memories, I hadn't thought of that time in a long while.
I have these memories and sometimes in thinking about how everything's changed so much it’s hard to know where I fit anymore. This is a theme that I think a lot of people struggle with all their lives--where do you feel welcome? Where do you feel like you really belong, where do you fit in? I mentioned before that it's hard to feel complete without my dad around, I think that we've all been struggling to rearrange our roles in this life now that he's not here. The chorus of one of my dad's more recent songs goes "You'll know when you know that you are known full well, you're known full well." I believe that to be known is something that a lot of people long for—having people that really know you. It’s cool when the people that really know you still actually like you anyway. That’s what friendship and community and family is all about. Every morning I wake up and look at the poem that my dad copied a while back for Aeden and I:
in a world which is doing
its best night and day
to make you everybody
else -- means to fight the
hardest battle
which any human
can fight and never
stop fighting
We've talked a lot lately about the different ways that people deal with grief and hard times. I've always been fascinated by peoples' reactions to things, by the different ways that people handle themselves. I've learned a lot from being there for my friends during their tough times, I've lived vicariously through a lot of people and I think I'm pretty good at putting myself in other peoples' shoes. I'm sure that nothing could have prepared me for this kind of loss but I keep holding on to the idea that I have the tools to get through it--a lot of those tools even came from my dad and there's a lot of comfort in that. My dad and I often talked about identity and belonging, he was the King of making people feel welcome. I miss that. My parents have also established a wonderful community of people who are really good at inviting people in and making them feel welcome. It’s still hard to know exactly where we fit in all of this, what my role is now, and sometimes it is a little bit of a struggle to know who I am anymore. Those thoughts are usually fleeting, I feel pretty solid most of the time but it’s hard not to question that every once in a while. It's just that so much has changed.
Yesterday was Labor Day. For almost as long as we’ve lived in
It’s still strange to me how differently we’re all dealing with this whole thing. I can’t even see pictures of Tom or hear his voice or see his handwriting without completely falling into that abyss of sadness and grief. I want him to know that I love him so much and it doesn’t feel like I’m able to show that because the loss is too big. I spent countless hours working with him (the Song Growing Co. and projects around the farm) and playing music with him and seeing him daily when he was in town. It’s just excruciating knowing that that’s all gone and won’t ever come back.
Irene talked about Tom’s song called “As Human As They Can Be.” I remember vividly when he was writing it. He was very excited as it really hits home with his and most other educators’ (the good ones, anyway) beliefs on education in general. I remember him talking about it and singing parts of it to me for feedback as he did often with his writings and songs. Most days sitting at the computer desk at the far end of the narrow office I would hear his pencil on his yellow pad of paper behind me and his voice asking, “What do you think of this?” or “Does this work in this context?” or “Listen to this chorus I’m working on” and I would give him my ideas and feedback. At times it felt like I had a small hand in helping him write some of those wonderful things he wrote. All these things echo and loop in my head and it hurts so, so much knowing that it’s gone. He and I recorded “As Human As They Can Be,” along with two other songs, at my house – it was a good little three-song recording session although the mixes I did aren’t perfect.
Irene also mentioned how she feels pretty strong these days. Well, I don’t feel very strong at all most of the time. I keep thinking I should feel stronger than I do. I keep putting one foot in front of the other the best I can, but mostly I just feel like I’m on autopilot doing whatever needs to be done – helping my mom with whatever she needs help with, helping the Song Growing Co. with accounting and orders and inventory so Tom’s music can still get out there into the world and my mom will have a little income, getting necessary info and CDs ready for tributes and memorials, playing in and managing my band, and trying to keep up on real estate in this area. That autopilot thing was in full effect when I was helping my mom take care of my dad. I really wish I could have been a bigger presence in this journal and the blog, but there were too many things that needed to happen and too much that needed to get done.
On a little lighter note, Morgan and I took off Saturday morning in a VW Westfalia borrowed from family friends (thanks again Bert & Sue!) and headed to
Aeden
I had an amazing time last week, I went to Portland and Seattle and then I went camping with a bunch of friends. On the road I saw a lot of people that I haven't seen in years, it was really good to just go away and not have any kind of set agenda for my trip. We camped at Baker Lake this weekend and I spent almost all of Saturday in the water, it was glorious. There were so many times when I found myself stepping back from everything, smiling to myself and thinking "My dad would be so proud." He would love to hear about my times with the wonderful people that I know, he would think it was so cool that I got a solo roadtrip in and that I got to swim so much and that I was around so many people that I love, doing a lot of the things that I love to do.
I've realized lately that one way that I have stayed close to him is by trying to hear him in my head. When I am in situations where I start doubting myself I can almost hear his voice encouraging me to do what's best for me. I think that my decisions and thought processes recently have been largely influenced by me asking myself "What would he want for me?" I guess in a way I've always done this, I've thought of my parents and their influence on my life and on my decisions. I love that I have been blessed with parents and a brother who only want what's best for me, I love that we only want what's best for each other and I am so grateful to have such wonderful people in my life.
I still feel lost a lot of the time and I still get struck with big waves of loss and I don't always know how to get out of that. I'm having a really hard time sleeping and being tired always makes everything heavier. The feeling of not knowing who I am without my dad is a little weaker than it first was, I think a lot of that has to do with how he's so prominent in my life still. Through conversations with my mom and friends, hearing his voice on tapes and cds and videos, reading his handwriting and trying to hear him when things come up that I would normally turn to him for advice with, I feel like I am stronger, and that has a lot to do with his influence in my life. I feel really strong through this which is something that I know would make him proud and I know that a lot of my strength comes from my parents--they are two of the strongest people that I know. I think that there is a lot of strength yet to be found in each of us as we continue to rearrange our lives and figure out where we fit in a world without him.
My dad wrote "As Human As They Can Be" a while ago, it's available at www.tomhunter.com for free. It is one of my favorite songs, here are the words:
This world is changing so fast we can’t see what’s coming before it arrives
To believe passing tests will make our kids ready is a gamble we take with their livesHow can we prepare our children for a world we cannot yet see
Oh I think we work hard so they can become as human as they can be.I want my kids to know how to cry when a loss or a death makes them sad
And I hope that they’ll notice what’s wrong and unjust so they’ll know when to get good and mad.How can we prepare our children for a world we cannot yet see
Oh I think we work hard so they can become as human as they can be.Maria knows numbers, Theresa likes words and Robert is good with his hands
Johnny learns best when he’s standing and moving and his teacher this year understands.How can we prepare our children for a world we cannot yet see
Oh I think we work hard so they can become as human as they can be.And Paul has a classroom of 28 children he thinks everyone is a star
But he’s worried they’ll learn everything that’s required and not have a clue who they are.How can we prepare our children for a world we cannot yet see
Oh I think we work hard so they can become as human as they can be.
What happened to playing, to wonder and passion, to art and creativity?
When test scores are all we have left we have lost the heart of our humanityHow can we prepare our children for a world we cannot yet see
Oh I think we work hard so they can become as human as they can be.
I love this song for a lot of reasons. The second verse rings true to me right now and I love that there are so many of his words and his songs that I can turn to for comfort. I love that there is a song out there like this for teachers and for parents, a song that encompasses a lot of the fears that they have for their kids, a lot of the fears that I have for my friends' children and will most likely have for mine someday. My mom sang this song to me earlier and her voice sounded angelic--I just wish that they were able to sing these songs together still.
I have hope for the future and I know that my family and I will be ok. I worry a lot but I know that a time will come when this is easier, and I understand that it will take a long time to get there. And that's alright. I still wish that I could fix everything. There's nothing more human than death, there's nothing harder than this. I do have faith that we will be ok because we have to be--my dad wouldn't have it any other way.
It’s strange, and very sad, living in the same home with Tom’s stuff and yet living in a totally different context than I have for the past 33 years. The things around me aren’t supposed to be mine, they’re ours. The farm isn’t mine, it’s ours. The car isn’t mine, it’s ours. It’s simply wrong that so many things are now 'mine.' Even my saddle fits Tom and our kids, not me. For decades, everything I’ve done has been for 'us' and to give children a better future. My advocating on behalf of Native American education, my opposition to downgrading a local forest to a regional park that will attract yet more people to a municipal reservoir already declared endangered by the EPA because of ongoing human activity, my jail time for protesting research and development of the neutron bomb that destroys people but leaves buildings standing, my (our) foster-parenting and work with ‘at risk’ adolescents, PAL and work with children and animals - using clicker training to facilitate a broader societal paradigm shift away from using force and toward using our minds and heart connections, my music and (albeit reluctant) support of Tom's travels (because of the good work he did in the world) – all this has been done with a better world in mind. I treasure Tom’s sometimes active, oftimes behind-the-scenes, support and participation in my efforts. He was there when I needed to debrief, bounce around ideas, and be hugged. I miss him so much.
One of the hardest parts of my day isn’t waking up without Tom, as he was an early riser and traveled a lot. It’s remembering a few minutes after waking up that he won't be coming into the kitchen to hug me and say good morning and he won't be on the other end of a telephone call. Am not sure I’d get out of bed if the farm didn’t need tending. His wise voice in my head telling me to ‘keep it going’ helps, but everything's a struggle right now. Aeden and Irene have been role models and great sources of strength for me, and I also deeply value Morgan's solid and unobtrusive support of each of us in the background.
A consoling thought for me, and I hope for you, is that energy doesn’t die. It changes form. And the world needs Tom's energy now more than ever, in whatever form it’s taking. His energy has always been strong, as you well know. I see the following as an example. (There are others.)
Aeden
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atimeforsharing- Tom Hunter Family
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