three months ago an independent shan drove herself to the hospital at the behest of her GP where she spent the first night alone, in good cheer.
i didn't see the storm that was coming. i remember thinking it odd that they asked if i had a living will when i admitted myself.
i have come a long way since i got up close and personal with death, but there is no end in sight to this recovery.
i just have to remind myself that just because it is not *in sight* that does not mean it is not there, somewhere in the hazy future. and between now and whatever, whenever
there holds and will be: a few days on bolivar. my butt may have refused to return after the bout of malnourishment, but i'm still donning a bikini to get my annual dose of salt water and sun, of vacation.
----
nearly dying gets one thinking about things like wills and such. at this point dan gets the books, the journals, the computers (and files, including everything i've written). it seems silly to itemize my shit (my chef's knife goes to courtney, the sewing machine and stuff to mom, etc.)
i'm really kind of hoping to be around a lot longer.
regarding any sort of service: justin has to sing and play "today" -- uncle mike will lead everyone in "you are my sunshine" as he did at aunt mandi's funeral... and until i make arrangements to be put in the earth in a natural way, the interim plan is to be cremated. i wouldn't mind being sprinkled or tumped over the edge of wheeler peak in new mexico, but that means someone has to climb that sucker. the window out in big bend national park is a good alternative. either way you're going to have to split me up, because some ashes are going to go over the railing of the bolivar ferry, inshallah.
that's all i've got at the moment. time to get to work.
This year's trip to Bolivar was calm and healing. The peninsula is definitely making a come back.
