I have two words for you; Water Dragon. You know that sound, when you put your ear up to one of those "you can hear the ocean" shells? That kind of sound is coming through the wall of glass on the south side of the house. Our little Weaver Creek is roaring again, with the water tumbling madly down through the narrow slot of huge, heavy moss rocks that form the little canyon division of our land. Aquarius and The Water Dragon. It sounds like a good title for an old fashioned Japanese monster movie, don't you think?
My dad is an odd duck, to say the least, but a very smart and "sensitive" man who struggled with the madness of living in a highly populated area, during one of the mostly highly charged times of his lifetime. Imagine being in a TV showroom, with the audio up and every set on a different channel. This is how I imagine it is for someone with that much sensitivity to stimuli, both seen and unseen. He had to flee.
He pulled up stakes from the SF Bay area, over 20 (!) years ago and went to find his Peace in the beautiful Bitterroot Valley of Montana. He is there because he was searching for the place of his impressionable youth, the recreation of the place that was the Owens Valley, before Los Angeles took the water. See? There is that word again...water. He found Hamilton and settled in there, loving the mountains and the little valley situated between two mountain ranges, just as Bishop is there between the southern Sierra and the White Mountains. I have not seen him since those rough days, when he struggled with the ability to shut out the Noise but talk to him, every now and again. He seems peaceful, even though he is losing his sight to macular degeneration.
I have forgiven him for all of the childhood years that I spent without him, knowing now that my two sensitive and intuitive parents could never have survived their lives Together. My mother never got over his leaving and was dreaming about "Jimmy" as she neared the stroke that left her an Internal Being for those 11 months After the Stroke. My dad probably never gave her another thought, choosing to marry a couple of times more and finally end up blissfully alone.
I have struggled with the two halves of my DNA; my mother being extremely talented and disciplined but rigid, while my father was artistic with a wild abandon, never having much success with any of it. They both lost their sight but not their Sight. (take your Lutein, Lisa...) My mother died an unhappy human but we made peace before she had the stroke. Dad will leave the planet when he is good and ready, having found his own peace in a quiet valley.
I have found much peace in this beautiful forest and thank my mother for allowing me to pull up her roots so that I could find my own, here in this land. I made a move, much like my dad, to find a small town with a soul, old fashioned newspaper and old fashioned parades.
Dad said that the Chinese lunar New Year would bring the end to our drought. He was right.
I'm really enjoying your blogging and sharing!
Posted by: Connie | January 23, 2012 at 09:18 AM
Thanks, Connie. It feels good to be writing again.
Posted by: Lisa Souza | January 23, 2012 at 09:55 AM
Lisa, I had the exact relationship with my Mom and Dad. Both are gone now. I still miss them. They are both,hopefully, at peace now. Or they have continued their never ending argument into eternity and left me in peace.
Posted by: June Peterson | January 23, 2012 at 12:53 PM
This was beautiful, Lisa. Your talent for all things artistic - whether writing, sewing/knitting or singing - impressed me as a child and floors me as an adult.
Posted by: Dena | January 31, 2012 at 03:33 PM
Thanks for reading this, "little sister". Our dad is quite a character but we are lucky to have him as our father, no matter how painful and wonderful it has been. :o)
Posted by: Lisa Souza | January 31, 2012 at 05:10 PM